Dark Waters
by NinjaTomatoFairyKing
Summary: In the mystic world, Greg House is perhaps the only Healer who does not believe that magic is the answer to healing. Somehow he hasn't been completely made an outcast, and thank goodness. War is at hand, and the village of Prynce is on the front lines. Can House manage to keep humanity from dying out? (fantasy AU)
1. Chapter 1

The forest was silent. Many called it the Forest of Shadows, as all that seemed to live there was shadows and unknown evils. However, the denizens and the village that lay almost touching its borders didn't seem to mind. They avoided the woods by all means, but they did not seem to fear it as many others did. One person, however, had no fear for the woods at all. Greg was an odd man, sarcastic and cold hearted. House was his surname, and by that he begged others call him. Unlike the other residents of Prynce, as the village was so named, House refused to believe so heavily in the supernatural. Many Healers chose dark magic as their medium, but it was not so with House. To him, that was foolish. The earth itself gave enough to heal people. Magic was false. It had been two decades if not more since magic was last seen in the village of Prynce.

The earth seemed to be sleeping that night. The village rested in darkness, a hush over the world. Only one man was awake. House sat outside his hut, staring contently at the forest. James, his good and perhaps only friend, had just left. By now he must have also been asleep. Sleep gave no peace to House. He rubbed his scarred leg. Some years ago he had been traveling with his lover at the time, and a wolf had attacked him, tearing off a decent bit of leg muscle with it. House had managed to stab the beast, just as he had barely managed to live. James, a man who had picked up enough knowledge of healing to treat such a wound, had stitched it up as best he could. Still, House was never the same man, and that lover had left him.

A chill seemed to spread out of the land, though winter was far off still. The forest seemed to taunt the man sitting in the moonlight. There had been word in the pub earlier that week of strange happenings. Some whispered of ghosts in the forest, a strange stirring. According to one brave soul, a certain Eric Foreman, a minor Healer who had just come to Prynce in hopes of learning from House, the Great Pool in the Ancient Wood had turned black. To those who were superstitious, that meant that evil was upon the world, or some trouble was about to be at hand. House was no such person. He believed in nothing but the natural, and with that he cast out superstition and magic. Who had even seen the Ancient Wood or the Great Pool other than the High Priestesses of Yar? No one had.

House gulped down another sip of ale. The village leader, an older woman named Lisa Cuddy, was demanding that House work more often and take on apprentices starting that upcoming morning. Apparently in times of trouble, there was need for people to be able to heal outside of magic. House just happened to be the best Healer, magic or no. Thus House was given three apprentices: Eric, Robert Chase, and Alyson Cameron. Out of the three, Robert Chase was the only one who had never before stepped foot in Prynce. Foreman, while having just moved back to Prynce, had actually been born and raised there. Alyson was the niece of the pub owner, though House was not familiar with her per say. House was like Robert. It was only in his older age that he migrated to the village that rested on the edge of the forest that gave so many such fear.

Finally, House told himself enough was enough. He was in need of some rest if he was to survive the next morrow. He was too solitary a man to be forced to work with others. Even the fact that he healed people was pushing his limits. Still, Cuddy owned the land, and was one step from kicking House off of it. House couldn't afford to lose his job, or his home. He was well hated by many in the land, a series of villages and towns of various sizes that governed themselves and come together under the High Priestesses of Yar. Yar was the religion that many people took, well, everyone took except for House. He took his stance with pride however, and as he returned into the confines of his own walls, that pride took over his thoughts.

As the Healer left for bed, a figure had appeared on the edge of Prynce, a tall figure with dark red hair and cutting eyes that were so dark in color they seemed almost black. She smiled, thanking the gods silently for the safe travels. Now Artemisia had reached her destination, traveling far from the east and the High Mountains where the Temple of Yar rested in solitude. She had been sent by the Council to keep watch. The Forest of Shadows was awakening from its slumber. For centuries the evil had rested, yet now it was clear it had returned. The Great Pool had born vision to that, turning as black as the night about to fall on the earth. Artemisia shuttered. She had been raised in the Temple, and now she wondered if Fate would by chance be kind enough to let her see it once more.

Now was not the time for such petty sorrows, Artemisia reminded herself. War was on the brink, and it was up to her to spread the message of its coming. The people of Prynce knew not the danger ahead. Shadows lurked in those dark trees across the way. War was on the horizon, and it chilled Artemisia to the bone. Could such a Healer who rejected the powers of magic make it in such a time? For the war to come was not of man versus man, but rather of man versus an evil that had not been seen for centuries. The waters had darkened, and it would be up to House to keep the peoples of the land alive.

 **A/N: Welcome to my new story! I think this will be a fun ride. I have not written an AU like this ever before, and I am so excited to see how it plays out! There will be a lot of lore and such in this. Also, if you like this type of story go to my Wattpad (same username as here) and check out my new original story, A Shadow's Call. I hope you all enjoy this short chapter in which we set our stage. Please leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Morning dawned slowly yet swiftly. House groaned as the sun cast its solemn rays onto his bed. Grabbing his staff, a twisted bit of wood that was dark like his soul, he pulled himself up from the bed. That damned leg was certainly stiffer in the morning than any other time. The bed creaked beneath him, and he winced. His room was musty, the only furniture being the bed, a chair, and his chest of clothes. He hobbled over to the chair, reaching for his Healer robes and the small bag full of pills of his creation. It was a mix of herbs hardened together that he could swallow to dull the pain. As could be expected, there was a consequence to the creation. They were the sort of herbs that managed to also warp thought, a creation we would call a narcotic. Still, House couldn't quite function without them, and each night he set the village Alchemist to making more pills. Then each morning he went to pick them up. Today was no different, and after having a meager breakfast of bread, he set out to the Alchemist.

Annalie was leaning forward onto the counter from behind it, her coal like eyes staring out. She caught House's eye and smiled. "There's me best customer. Here's your bag," Annalie remarked, her thin face and pale lips a sepulchral sort of beauty. She was young, though not exactly in her youth, and had inherited the store from her father. House picked up the bag, weighed it in his hand, and dropped some coins onto the counter.

"I'm sure if the rumors are true that I'll be stopping by more often," House sighed, holding back a yawn. Failing, he breathed in deeply and let out a great yawn. He had let himself stay up much too late.

"I'm just surprised you're here this early," Annalie raised an eyebrow. House just glared. Annalie knew a little bit too much about others than should have been her business. Still, House relied on that sometimes. She was sly as a fox, and held rumors and secrets like no one else could. It tended to come in handy from time to time, someone House could rely on if a patient was being rather secretive. He was hoping today wouldn't be one of those days. He exited the shop and walked a further way down the street. The Healer's Hut sat at the end of this business street, a bit larger than the other huts and buildings. He nudged the door open with his cane and stepped inside to Foreman, Chase, and Cameron all sitting near the one wall by the fireplace. There were a few cots in the room, not that most of them were opt to be filled. House had a one patient rule, no more no less.

"So," House began with a sigh, but was interrupted. The pounding of horses took through the outside, more than would be called for in such a small town. Wilson stormed into the hut out of breath.

"Soldiers from High Top," the man explained. Cameron stood, her eyes wide.

"This far north?" she asked. House shrugged, looking out from the doorway over Wilson's shoulder. Three soldiers clad in dark metal and sigil of High Top sat on tall horses. On another horse sat a fourth soldier who looked injured, slumping over. Chase and Cameron both pushed past House into the street alongside many villagers. Lisa Cuddy stepped out as well, her brow furrowed in question. House limply walked out as well just as the soldiers dismounted, one of the first three helping the fourth.

"Villagers of Prynce, war is upon the world," the lead soldier announced, taking off his gloves. He scanned the growing crowd.

"What the hell makes you think so?" Annalie called out, her arms crossed. The soldier turned towards her.

"We come from High Top where a battle has been fought, though what exactly it was fought against is still being discussed. The spirits walk. We have been sent to warn and protect you," the soldier explained.

"Your man is hurt, let our Healers take a look at him. Wilson, House, take him inside," Cuddy instructed. Chase and Foreman helped the soldier carrying the injured man inside. Wilson and House reentered the Healer's Hut, however the scene in the square was not over.

"You have no power here, soldier," a woman growled. Artemisia had come out from hiding when she heard the soldiers enter the rather peaceful village. The villagers all turned towards her, astonished.

"You are far from home, High Priestess," the lead soldier laughed. Artemisia laughed.

"I could say the same of you, Sir Grendil," Artemisia replied.

"Who are you?" Cuddy asked breathlessly. A High Priestess had not been seen in this area for nigh on a hundred some years.

"I am Artemisia, a High Priestess of Yar who has been sent to keep the evils at bay in this village," Artemisia explained loud enough for the whole village, now gathered on that dusty street, could hear. House even heard in his hut, watching Chase and Wilson begin to treat and close the man's wound, a deep cut that began right below his nipple and traveled down to the end of his ribs. The shiny white of his bones glistened in the candle light. House backed out into the world however when Artemisia revealed herself. A High Priestess in Prynce? High Priestesses actually existed? House couldn't believe it, nor would he allow himself the pleasure of doing so.

"What proof do you have?" House asked.

"House! Get back inside," Cuddy barked. House ignored her, his eyes locked on the strange woman.

"What proof do you have that you are actually a priestess?" House repeated. Artemisia raised an eyebrow. Her dark red hair flowed about her, and suddenly without warning it began to move as though a breeze passed through the locks. Her almost black eyes began to lighten in color, becoming like golden sheer crystals as she stared into House's eyes.

"Gregory House, a Healer who believes in no magic, and whose heart has become like stone in his breast. You sir, are a mind I like to taste on my tongue. You loved once, yet no longer so. That man you have there…He will die and you know it. The wound is not of this earth, and therefore no earthly power may heal him. Yet you will try, and try in vain," Artemisia cooed, cocking her head to the right. She stepped forward, pressing a single finger against House's temple. As though to prove her word, Cameron stepped out of the hut.

"House, he died," Cameron muttered. Artemisia's eyes turned their normal dark hue as she sighed.

"May I give him his last rites?" Artemisia asked. She waited for no answer, stepping straight inside, gliding rather it seemed, and knelt down next to the body. House stepped in after her, his jaw dropped slightly. She began to mutter her prayers to the gods, eyes closed. The other soldiers led by Grendil stepped in as well.

"Who the hell are you?" House muttered under his breath. Things had certainly taken an odd turn. The whole village of Prynce knew it, and the black waters of the Great Pool knew it as well. In that moment, as that soldier died and Artemisia proved her worth, a new power had awoken, finding its vessel. The earth seemed to suddenly be a tenser place, and yet still it was only the beginning.

 **A/N: Alright! Chapter 2! Sorry for the delay. Here's how this works: I write when I can. I have been busy with school and trying to finish reading "A Clash of Kings" (George R. R. Martin has my soul by now I think). This is also a bit of a tougher fan fiction for me to write. I'm trying to blend two different things here. Also, I will be taking many liberties here with how the plot goes. For example, while I may bring in every main character of the show, I may not do so in the same order or for the same reasons. So, deal with it. I think this'll be fun. Artemisia and House may be butting heads though. And who knows what side Annalie will be on. Or anyone else for that matter... Still, while I have some free time, I'm going to just sit and begin working on the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed, and please leave a review. You guys are awesome! Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

Four days' travel east from Prynce, a woman awoke in the late morning hours. She had been feeling rather ill as of late, but awoke with a sort of surging power in her blood that it made it seem like it was boiling. Remy Hadley reached over to her nightstand and drank a sip of water. Sunlight poured through the inn window, reminding her that she needed to get back on the road. She stood, grabbing the small token given to her by her father on a day much different from this one. She quickly dressed, her joints aching once more. She knew what she had, yet dare not utter the words before she spoke to Greg House. She had heard of his accomplishments, and it was he that she wished to treat her. No one else would do.

"Oy, you leavin?" a drunk voice called as the inn keeper banged on her door. Remy pulled her hair back and grabbed her bag.

"Yes, I just woke up, I'm going," Remy muttered, pushing the door open. She gave the man an extra coin and began to go on her way. The morning was rather warm for an early fall day so far north. There had been rumors of disturbances in the weather, but Remy had never seen it firsthand. Now she had. She kept her cloak tied tightly around her. She was cold enough as it was. Her body liked to play the hot and cold game with itself. Just another symptom, she kept reminding herself. It would all be taken care of soon. As she walked, a man rode up beside her.

"Now, where's a pretty lass like you heading to?" he asked her.

"Prynce," she quickly replied.

"Same," the man smiled. "The name is Anselm, Anselm Granger. May I offer you a ride?" He had dusty brown hair and green eyes, freckles dotting his youthful face. He must have been twenty or so by the looks of it.

"I suppose," Remy cooed, raising an eyebrow. Anselm grabbed her arm and pulled her up onto the horse. They began to ride forward, taking in the landscape of golden leafed trees with spots of greens and reds with it. The land stretched out before them, and as the morning drew on, small talk became necessary. "Where are you from, Anselm?" Remy asked.

"Oh, far off to the east my pretty lass. What's your name, by the way?" Anselm replied.

"Remy Hadley," Remy replied, looking around. She couldn't quite remember the names of many places that far east.

"Where's Remy Hadley from then? Around here?" Anselm asked.

"No, south actually, I grew up in Fair Fields near the southern docks," Remy explained.

"Had I a taste for the sea, I'm sure I'd go there, lass. I'm fine as it is. Prynce is where I need to be," Anselm sighed.

"Why are you going there?" Remy inquired. Anselm shrugged.

"There's a war brewing, Miss Hadley. It's not one of men either, but one of magic and spirits. I happened to be doing some business out near High Top when the first battle broke out not even a full moon ago," Anselm mused.

"Do you think so?" Remy asked. She'd heard stories enough of magic, and seen what Healers could do, but that wasn't why she was going to Prynce. She wanted a Healer who didn't need magic, a place where she could escape that word.

"I know so. How about you, lass, why is such a pretty thing going to Prynce?" Anselm commented.

"I have some personal business there," Remy replied, falling silent. She wasn't going to tell a stranger her problems, no matter how friendly and handsome he was. She couldn't let her guard down. The chronically ill were often looked down upon by others, seen as lowly and unable to do anything good for the betterment of mankind. Remy was not at that point of complete dependence though. She was smart, and quick on her feet. She knew her place, but if the moment came, was not afraid to speak her mind. She had also dabbled in areas such as minor healing, trade, and other such things.

The rest of the ride into the evening was spent in silence, and as the moon rose in its white brilliance, Remy and Anselm took to making camp for the night. As she gazed at the dying flame that night after a quiet meal, Remy thought back to morning. Something had changed within her, though she knew not what it was. It was far in the reach of her mind, though still there. With a sigh, Remy turned over, the dying embers making it hard for her to sleep. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Remy prayed to the gods for guidance. What would she find in Prynce? Would she ever have the answers she so desired?

That very night, House sat across from Wilson in the living area of his home. The fire in his fireplace blazed brightly, and House watched the shifting colors grimly. "What are you thinking about?" Wilson finally asked, breaking the silence.

"That woman," House muttered. He glanced over at his singular friend. "Why is a High Priestess being sent here?"

"You've heard the rumors. Something's going on. The soldiers said it themselves. There's a war unlike anything we've ever seen before that's going on!" Wilson explained. House chuckled. "Oh that's right, you like to deny magic because that lessens your almighty ability," Wilson huffed. House shook his head.

"I'm not sure I don't believe in it, Wilson. I just don't think we should be so stupid as to say it's the answer to keeping all of us alive," House countered, leaning back as he took another sip of ale. That soldier had died earlier, just after Artemisia said it would happen. That High Priestess was now staying with Cuddy, who thought that she should house the highest ranking newcomer. The soldiers were forced to take up rooms in the inn. Sir Grendil had had a fit about that, sure enough. Why should he, a high ranking officer, be denied a room in the house of the leader of this miserable village? It was no matter though. Cuddy was never one to budge. Only for House did the woman ever make an exception. She had also ordered House to stay away from Artemisia.

"We'll see about that," House mumbled under his breath as he bid Wilson good night and retired. The next day promised to be just as exciting as that day had been.

 **A/N: Be glad, my dear readers. I wasn't going to write today, but I decided I'd hammer out the rest of this chapter. I got home late and had stuff to do besides. Then I said to myself that since I'm not sure how November will turn out with writing, that I may as well try and post a chapter of at least one of my fan fictions for every day in October. Update on that, though, I finally have my idea for Nanowrimo planned out! Yay! Now I have to wait exactly a month to start actually writing! Ah well, I've plenty to keep me busy otherwise! So we meet 13 finally! She is one of my favorite characters of the entire series, and I just had to have her be a big part of this story. Forewarning, I will be taking some creative liberties with her Huntington's just because this is a fantasy/medieval AU and I doubt they had that then. So I am making do as is. Anselm is another new character we met this chapter, one who I think I'll have be fairly important. I like him so far. He's actually loosely based off of a character from an original story of mine, so there's that too. Anyways, enough for now. I hope you all enjoyed, and happy October! I'm looking forward for the month, and I hope you are too. As always, please leave a review! Thanks!**


	4. Chapter 4

House awoke almost peacefully, the pain in his leg a bit duller than it usually would be. He yawned heavily, the happenings of the day prior barely a vague memory on the edges of his mind. It all came back to him soon enough, however, as Lisa Cuddy pounded on his door. "House, you have a patient," Cuddy called. House groaned, wishing he could just go back to sleep.

"How bad is it? Can't it wait?" House asked. He heard Cuddy growl, and soon enough she thrust the door open and stormed through the hut to House's bedroom. "What, now you've come to service me?" House taunted with a smile. He'd always liked Cuddy in a way. She was well built with dark hair and nice eyes that now glared at him with a fury.

"Shut up and get out of bed. The smith is coughing up blood," Cuddy sighed. House grabbed his cane and stood, stretching with another yawn.

"The young one or the older one?" House asked.

"If I meant the younger one, I'd have said the smith's apprentice. Now, get to work. I have soldiers and priestesses to deal with," Cuddy snapped, leaving the room. House took another pill and watched her go. So Cuddy also wasn't too happy with Prynce's new guests. House almost hoped she'd kick them out soon enough, but he knew that she wouldn't. She was too much about courtesy and what not to actually do anything other than secretly complain about them. Complain she would though, that much House could count on.

He decided he'd stop and see Annalie first. House walked off to the alchemist who seemed like she'd barely gotten any sleep. "The usual," House sighed, dropping off a bag of coins. Annalie glared up at him, dropping the bag of pills onto the counter. "What's up with you?"

"I just got word my half brother is en route here. He's a bastard, in both senses of the word. Apparently he's decided to pay a visit and should be here either today or tomorrow," Annalie growled. Her family was one full of disloyalty and bastard children, so House wasn't surprised she'd be this upset. Annalie was one of the few true born children in the family.

"Wait, is he the one with the beady eyes who got arrested for being a thief?" House asked. Annalie shook her head.

"No, that's the other one. This one… He's my mother's son, not my father's. He was sent out of the country to our uncle to be raised," Annalie explained. She sighed. "You should go. I know you have a patient." House nodded stiffly and grabbed his bag, popping a pill in his mouth. Chase and Cameron were sitting next to the smith, an older man named Timothy who was in his later forties, holding a bucket. Foreman sat across from them trying to ask questions as to Timothy's lifestyle and overall health.

"We can't get much out of him. He started vomiting before we could ask questions," Foreman explained as soon as House stepped into the room. House studied the man with narrow eyes, and turned to his table. Scattered across its surface, House had books, scrolls, and herbs. He took a few herbs and began to crush them together, looking up at the retching man.

"Give him this," House ordered Chase. Bewildered, Chase stood without question and grabbed the chalky paste out of House's hand. He gave it to Timothy, who ate it. Perhaps it was more out of hope that the torture he was going through would stop. Sure enough, a few minutes later Cameron and Chase were able to pull the bucket away. Just then Artemisia stepped into the room.

"Is that a mix of peppermint, ginger, and yarrow I smell?" Artemisia asked. House glared at her.

"Why is the High Priestess gracing us with her presence?" House mocked. Artemisia smiled coyly.

"What need have I other than pure curiosity? Word of your accomplishments have reached my people. Now, was I correct on that mix?" Artemisia answered. House led her outside so that Foreman could ask his questions.

"Yes, you were," House growled. "Now, I don't know why you keep trying to hang around me, but here's a tip. Don't. Leave me the hell alone."

"One day, you will see. The heir shall come forth, the skies shall darken, and you and I will be forced to take the same side. Our banners will fly together," Artemisia mused. She narrowed her eyes.

"Well, until that happens, stay away from me," House sighed, storming back inside.

Artemisia walked up to the edge of the forest. After speaking with House, she needed to calm back down. Nature did that. She took off her shoes, and walked parallel to the line of trees. She reached out, her hands brushing against the leaves. The breeze caressed her satin skin. The grass hugged her feet, the energy of the ground filling her. It was here in the silence she could always find herself, and in that moment find peace. The peace that filled her was not something she could explain, but something that just was.

She could feel the darkness as well as the peace. Something was stirring, something deep in the wood. The shadows and the ancient souls were waking. It made Artemisia's heart race just a little faster, and sent chills down her spine. Every fiber of her being felt something coming, a war long ago prophesized yet long ago forgotten. Even her people knew only whispered phrases of something larger than them all. She could feel that now, an overwhelming power that made it harder to breathe. It was addicting. Artemisia knew it. She wanted it. Her power was nothing compared to this. She wanted to hone what she had, and knew she could do it. If she reached out far enough, she could take it.

It was like a fire burning through her veins. Every nerve was caressed, and it took all she could not to step into the forest. She wanted to force such a strong power to their cause, if in fact she could. She didn't know if she could, but she wanted to try. The other High Priestesses would probably warn her of the risks, but what was life without risks? They hated when she fell for that servant girl, and warned her that her heart needed to be pure.

Artemisia opened her eyes. If war was on the horizon, she would face it. She would make House see her side, and maybe, just maybe, one day it would be revealed. She would show him the truth, and in that moment, maybe trust would be built. That day was not this one, and it was all only beginning. Let the game begin, Artemisia thought. She was sure of who would come out on top.

 **A/N: I am so sorry for the delay with this chapter! I've been so busy working on life things! On top of that, I've been reading a lot, and I started watching Reign today... Let me just say, ADDICTING! I am so freaking in love with this show. I love fantasy and medieval and stuff like that (obviously). Anyways, we have some secrets going on! So, we will have to wait and see how things play out. Also, a side note, I will probably not be talking to much about House actually diagnosing people, but I'll be playing around with it. We'll see! Also, Annalie and Anselm! That should be interesting! SO, as always, leave a review!**


	5. Chapter 5

House had taken to the inn that evening for a round of drinks with Wilson. He'd been in a rather negative mood since his talk with Artemisia. Thankfully the High Priestess was too high and mighty for a simple drink of ale. Sir Grendil was sitting on a bar stool though, his head dropped over so that his gaze was right down into his mug. "There was nothing we could have done you know, about your man," House called to the soldier. Grendil looked up with tired eyes.

"You shouldn't be so negative about magic, Mr. House. If you'd been there for the battle… Let's just say any non believer would change his ways real quick," Grendil sighed.

"You don't like this Artemisia though," House pointed out. Grendil shrugged.

"I said I believed in magic. That's quite different than liking it," Grendil remarked. Just then the door opened and a thin woman with sharp eyes and brown hair, and a tall man with a bright smile stepped into the inn. The man nodded politely to the woman and walked back out. The woman on the other hand walked right up to the counter.

"Do you have any idea where Gregory House is?" she asked in a hushed voice, low enough House was shocked he still heard it.

"I'm right here. I don't think I remember calling for a whore though. Who are you?" House replied. The woman studied him with eyes like daggers.

"I need your help. Can we talk in private?" the woman asked. House thought for a moment. Timothy was still recovering from his illness in the Healer's Hut, so House's home would have to do.

"Follow me," House ushered, nodding goodnight to Wilson. They entered House's place, and he walked over to light a fire. "What's your name?"

"Remy, Remy Hadley," the girl replied.

"There was a singer named Hadley. She died years ago," House muttered. Remy nodded stiffly.

"She was my mother. That's partly why I'm here. I've been ill recently, and I think I might have what she had," Remy explained. House froze.

"She died of the Winter Fever," House breathed. Winter Fever was thus named for the hot and cold flashes victims would have, alongside frequent shaking and a susceptibility to other diseases.

"Did you know her?" Remy inquired, raising an eyebrow. House sighed.

"Yes, for a time. I grew up in a village not far from Fair Fields, and my father would have business there from time to time. You know it's difficult to treat this illness," House replied. Remy nodded again. He walked over to her, examining her thin figure. She was strong, but the signs were there. A small black mark was found at the base of her neck. "How long have you had the mark?" House asked. Remy turned towards him, bewildered.

"I-I have the mark?" she breathed. House nodded.

"Stay in the village. I'll see what I can do," House sighed. He gave her a few coins. "Here, have a night at the inn on me. Get some rest. You've been traveling. I can tell. You need to sleep," House instructed.

"House, you say you knew my mother. She's the reason I'm here. She spoke of you," Remy mused before leaving. As she left, House sank into a chair, staring at the fire. Allie was already pregnant when House met her, though not far in. She'd actually wanted to get rid of the child, which was why she looked after House. He'd denied her plead, saying she should just marry the man and be better off. He couldn't tell her to kill the child. He knew the father, had grown up with the father. Hadley was a decent man, a sailor. Bastard born, his mother had been a servant of the High Priestesses in her youth. Allie had again come to House later on though. She had come crying one night when she found the same mark Remy now had. House sighed. If he couldn't save her, he'd swear to save the child. He owed it to them, and that would be enough.

Remy hadn't gone straight to the inn. She wandered the sleeping village close to the forest for a while. Her head was spinning, and she held the token her father had given her tightly in her hand. A noise brought her from her thoughts, a woman with hair like fire suddenly facing her. "Who are you?" Remy demanded sharply.

"High Priestess Artemisia," Artemisia replied. "Who are you? Why do you have that token?" Remy bit her lip.

"Remy Hadley, daughter of Jacob Hadley, son of Estria Hadley," Remy replied. Her grandmother had taught her how to introduce herself to a High Priestess from the time she was little. Artemisia studied her.

"They always spoke highly of Estria. She was a hard worker. Why are you here, pray tell? Last we heard, Estria had gone south to the docks," Artemisia inquired softly.

"I needed to see someone here," Remy explained reluctantly. Artemisia laughed. She was gorgeous, and Remy studied her lithe figure in the soft moonlight. She was like a goddess, a goddess of fire.

"You don't have to hide it from me. I can tell what you have," Artemisia assured. She looked over at the village. "He's a good man. He may just be able to help."

"He'll never heal me. I'm just hoping he can keep the symptoms down," Remy explained. Artemisia smiled.

"That's a reasonable hope. I won't stop you. Just… I'd like to keep in touch with you. You have such beautiful eyes, you know. You intrigue me," Artemisia winked. She sighed. "Go get some sleep and see me tomorrow. I trust you will be staying at the inn? Meet me there around noon and we can talk."

"That sounds like a good plan. I'd like to get some information on this war everyone is talking about," Remy replied, crossing her arms. Artemisia frowned.

"I may not be of complete help, but I shall vow to try my best," Artemisia replied. Remy left her standing there, and the High Priestess was all Remy dreamt about that night as she rested in the inn.

 **A/N: Hey guys! I can't believe I wrote a chapter so fast! Less than half an hour! Anyways, things are coming together a bit here. I'm getting a rhythm with this, and yes, Artemisia and Remy seem to have a bit of a connection. You didn't think I'd overlook the bisexual aspect did you? Fun fact: 13's character is actually part of how I learned that I was bisexual. That aside, I might have found a new fan fiction idea... A Death Note fan fiction! I actually have wanted to do one on here since I created this account, but I had to find an idea that was different than my other one I did on here. (see Hiro's Tale on my old account. It was one of my favorite ideas) Now, I know that means I'll have five full running fan fictions, but I plan on spending a lot of my long weekend writing. I will be working ahead on many of my fan fictions, especially this one and Remember to Breathe. I'm still debating how I want to write this fan fiction (it may be set during the course of the plot line, or a straight up AU like this but in the future. I'm going back and forth between the ideas). Also, I may start trying to work on a schedule for my posting if I get enough writing done this weekend, and if I do end up doing that I will put that schedule in my profile. Ok. That's out of the way. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I'm still setting up some plot things, but I think we're doing good. Let me know your thoughts and leave a review. Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

With morning came word. A nearby village had been burned to the ground by what could only be described as shadows during the night. The few villagers left had come straight to Prynce, their nearest ally. Lisa Cuddy wasted no time in calling a meeting. She, a few village officials, Grendil, Artemisia, House, and Wilson were all ushered to the village leader's office at the center of town. "We can't keep housing this many people," Lisa sighed.

"This is war," Grendil reminded her. The woman glared at the soldier.

"You think I don't know that? I know we are at war here, but I just don't know what we're fighting against," Lisa growled. Artemisia stood, her crimson dress fluttering around her.

"We are at war with powers no mortal has seen in centuries. The waters are black, and it has begun. We will be on the frontline," Artemisia pointed out.

"What makes you think that?" House asked. "This is just some group of people trying to get us all hiding in fear." Artemisia and Grendil both glared at him.

"You were not there when I watched an entire city burn. We barely fought those creatures off," Grendil snapped.

"Sir Grendil, I believe that even that battle was a small taste of what is to come. That forest your people dare not enter is stirring. I can feel it in the ground. It will all be coming from there, and it is up to us to be ready," Artemisia relayed.

"You can feel it, can you?" House taunted.

"Oh, I forgot, I am in the midst of a non believer," Artemisia growled.

"Both of you, stop this," Lisa cut in. She looked at House.

"Go help your apprentices. Those villagers need taken care of. That's first priority. Wilson, go with him," Lisa ordered. Wilson and House stood and left the room. Artemisia sat back down.

"I apologize, Lisa Cuddy, I was losing my temper," Artemisia told her. Lisa shook her head.

"He thinks he knows everything. What exactly did you feel?" Lisa asked.

"There is a darkness that grows in those trees. It is a strong power, not human," Artemisia explained.

"I fear that High Top may only be an example of what is to come," Grendil sighed. He clutched the back of his chair. "I give you all that I can, Cuddy."

"Thank you. I feel we may need it," Lisa sighed. She had everyone leave, and sat down staring out the window. Her father before her warned her that the Forest of Shadows was to be feared most when the Great Pool turned black, and now it had. Now the greatest city seen was crippled, and villages were being taken down. She doubted this neighboring one was the first, or that it would be the last. Cuddy rubbed her forehead. "We may need every last man we can get," she muttered.

Meanwhile, House sat watching as Chase, Cameron, Wilson, and Foreman tended to the burned villagers. "You know, you could help as well," Chase growled. House glared at him.

"He won't get his hands dirty," Wilson muttered. "They're just burn victims. That's not interesting to him."

"You don't have to make it seem so terrible, Wilson," House spat. He sighed. "I'm just thinking. What could make a person look like a shadow and attack a village and fight a city?"

"I don't know, nothing mortal," Wilson replied.

"An old friend sent me a letter the other day. He and his sister saw the shadows in another village. This is not human hand, House," Chase agreed.

"Everything has an explanation. Everything can be made logical," House growled. He stood and walked away. He needed to get out of there, the smell of smoke and ash being too much for him. He went home. He had too much to think about. He thought of Remy, and High Top, and now this new village. He thought of the past, and wondered about the future. He couldn't explain what was going on, and just had to hope that he could solve what he could figure out. Remy. He walked over to his books, research he had collected over the years. There had to be some mix of herbs to help her symptoms. There had to be an answer. He owed it to her father, and her mother. There was always an answer, a logical answer.

Remy sat across Artemisia in the inn. They had just ordered some food, and Artemisia smiled. "I'm glad you agreed to this little offer," Artemisia cooed.

"I think I'm glad too," Remy remarked. "So, what's this war that's going on?" Artemisia leaned back, looking away.

"I wish I knew more. Something is brewing. Shadows fought at High Top, and have burned a few villages," Artemisia sighed.

"I heard of the one nearby," Remy replied.

"Yes, well, I believe there is more to this. The Great Pool is black, waters turned as dark as night," Artemisia mused. She looked back up. "The Forest of Shadows is also stirring. Could you feel it last night?"

"Something didn't feel quite right, if that's what you mean," Remy answered. "Dark water in the Great Pool… My grandmother used to tell me stories of the Great Pool. She said it was like crystal." Artemisia smiled.

"Even more so when the light hits it," Artemisia chuckled. "Yet it is no longer so. I fear what is to come, Remy Hadley."

"Do you?" Remy asked. Artemisia nodded slowly. The door opened and Anselm walked in.

"I heard rumor of a High Priestess. Artemisia, how fair it is to see your lovely face," Anselm laughed, walking over. "So, you two know each other?"

"We are making our acquaintances," Artemisia replied, reaching out a hand for Anselm to kiss as he sat down. "And you two are acquainted?"

"I met her on my way here, by your word of course, and gave her a ride," Anselm explained. He studied Remy for a moment. "This woman here, Remy, is one of the greatest alive. Treat her well. I'll leave you to it. Artemisia, I shall hope to see you later, perhaps this evening where we can discuss matters." He stood, winking at Remy before leaving again.

"Where'd you meet him?" Remy asked.

"The High Priestess of Yar have loyal servants outside of our little abode. Anselm came to us young, wanting to help. We let him travel, but told him that if ever heard word from one of us that he was come immediately and without hesitation. He does fair work, an honest man," Artemisia explained.

"Do you like him, more than a friend?" Remy asked, blushing lightly. Artemisia smiled, a twinkle in her eye.

"My fair Remy, I have eyes not for man, but the fairest of the fair," she replied gently, touching Remy's hand with her own for a second before pulling away as the waitress brought out their food.

 **A/N: Well, stage is certainly set. Anselm works for the High Priestesses of Yar, and everyone is against House's beliefs. Also, war is certainly on the rise. We have a good bit of dialogue in this chapter. Anyways, I did start that new fan fiction last night, so go check that out if you so wish. I have nothing else to really say so enjoy the chapter and as always, please leave a review. I love reading your feedback, as it lets me know how I'm doing. Thank you all!**


	7. Chapter 7

House woke up sweating the next morning. He had relived his accident those years ago. His leg was throbbing as he pulled himself out of bed. He hissed. Damn it, he had no pills left. He swore under his breath, and quickly dressed to go see Annalie. She was arguing with Anselm. "No, don't touch anything you damned fool!" Annalie growled. Anselm threw up his hands. Annalie sighed as she turned to see House.

"Give me something quick," House groaned.

"Bad morning?" Annalie asked. House glared at her.

"Terrible," he replied. She walked over and handed him a bag of pills, and he dropped the coins in her hand. He quickly popped a pill into his mouth and sighed. "I may need your help later, a secret project. I won't bother with it now, but I hope you're up for an experiment," House explained. Annalie rolled her eyes.

"When am I not?" Annalie remarked. She looked over at Anselm. "Anselm, meet Gregory House, the town healer."

"Pleasant to make your acquaintance, sir," Anselm bowed. House glared.

"Don't bother. I'm no sir. Go see Grendil for that stuff," House growled. He waved goodbye and walked down to the Healer's Hut. Chase was already there. "Aren't you an overachiever?" House mocked.

"I felt someone had to watch over our patients," Chase replied.

"Alright, so you're just a clever one," House sighed. "How are they doing?"

"They all claim the same thing. It was a shadow, twice the height of a man. There were a few of them, and they started the fire. They have no form, but they can hold or at least manipulate things," Chase explained, getting right to the meat of it.

"Only a few days and you already understand how I work. Good job," House remarked. He went over to his shelves. He couldn't find anything that might possibly help him in his struggles. Helping Remy was going to be harder than he first thought.

"Good morning," Cameron greeted as she entered the hut. "Oh, House, you're already here."

"Couldn't sleep," House muttered. He looked over at her.

"I'd say the leg is bothering you," Wilson commented as he came in from the back room. He looked over at Chase. "I gave them all a sleeping drought so they wouldn't have to feel the pain too much. They need to rest."

"That's a smart call, but since when do you deal with this type of problem?" House asked. Wilson glared at his friend.

"Cuddy wants all hands on deck until the villagers are healthy again. She also wants you far away from Artemisia," Wilson explained.

"Alright, where is this High Priestess of Yar so I can avoid her?" House replied.

"I saw her at the inn," Cameron answered. "She was with that other new comer, the girl from Fair Fields." House groaned.

"How can I avoid her if she's with my special patient?" House muttered.

"You take special patients?" Wilson asked. "Since when?"

"Since I owe her parents," House replied. "She's a Hadley."

"Jacob Hadley's daughter? Well, that's a bit unexpected. I thought Jacob stopped talking with you after his wife died," Wilson mused. House shrugged.

"She sought me out," House replied.

"I can only guess what she has then. What are you going to do?" Wilson asked.

"I'm trying to figure that out," House growled. "Damn it, I forgot to eat. I'll be back. And no, I'm not going to the inn. I'm going home." He left the hut promptly. Cameron turned to Wilson.

"Who's Jacob Hadley?" Cameron asked the man.

"Believe it or not, there was once a time Greg House had friends. Jacob Hadley was one of them. They grew up together. After Hadley's wife died though, House and Hadley had a falling out. It wasn't too long after that House had his accident," Wilson explained.

"It must be tough to see the daughter then," Chase remarked.

"That might be partly why he's so tense," Wilson sighed. "Come on, we should change their bandages."

Anselm and Artemisia met on the outskirts of town, right near the Forest of Shadows. "I can sense it," Anselm sighed, looking at the line of trees. He turned to Artemisia. "It's really happening, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Artemisia agreed. "The demons are rising against the gods."

"We knew it would happen eventually," Anselm pointed out. Artemisia closed her eyes.

"And how many innocents are supposed to die because of it?" Artemisia asked. Anselm shrugged.

"They don't know. I saw how they talked to each other. They are both so unaware," Anselm remarked.

"Perhaps it is for the better that they do not know. Your mother never mentioned it?"

"No, she said she couldn't. She died with that secret," Anselm sighed.

"Make sure it stays that way until I saw otherwise," Artemisia ordered. Anselm bowed, and returned to help his sister in the shop.

The Temple of Yar was silent. The marble floors were stained with red. The halls were cold, the stench of death rising and clinging to the air. The man stumbled back. The High Priestesses all died in meditation. The guards were killed first. The mark of the demons was painted in crimson blood on the door. The man ran back to his horse. There was one left, only one. The whole world would have to turn to her. War was well in motion, and the greatest defense had been taken down in one blow. The black horse galloped down the mountain path. The man had only one place to go: Prynce, the last defense against the greatest darkness man had ever known.

 **A/N: Alright, more game changers. Tension is high on many fronts, but it looks like that is only just beginning. Artemisia holds probably to many secrets than what's good for her, and Anselm is with her. It's also probably about time Cameron, Chase, and Forman are really seen (more with them will come. I promise). Oh, and then we have that last little paragraph... Yeah, things are only just starting here. At least we have a little more of an idea of what is going on (demons anyone?). So, all this being said, thank you for reading. This is certainly more of a hit fan fiction than a miss. As always, please leave a review!**


	8. Chapter 8

Artemisia sat pale and silent across from Lisa Cuddy. "Y-You are sure?" Artemisia asked. Cuddy nodded slowly. The man behind her, older in age but not too old, sighed.

"I saw it with my own eyes, High Priestess," Matthew explained. Artemisia took a deep breath.

"Thank you for finding me, Sir Matthew. I fear our situation is now graver than we originally guessed," Artemisia relayed. Silence hung over the room for a moment. She looked up at the two people in the room with her. "Matthew, you said that the mark of demons was painted on the door?" Artemisia asked. Matthew closed his eyes.

"The blood had to have been from the guards, Priestess Artemisia," Matthew confirmed. The High Priestess's eyes darted over to Cuddy.

"This means that Sir Grendil was right. No man commits these acts of war. We must be ready at a moment's notice," Artemisia cautioned.

"That means preparing with magic. How do you think House will react? Our own healer will be against us," Lisa sighed. She shook her head, glancing out the window. "We won't survive unless he is with us."

"Then find a new healer," Matthew suggested.

"Gregory House is the greatest healer in the free realms or the kingdoms," Artemisia reminded him. She stood. "What if I said that I had information that could change his views, if only to toleration of magic?" Artemisia asked. Lisa raised an eyebrow.

"What do you know? It'll take a lot to change him at all," Lisa replied. She seemed hesitant. Artemisia smirked.

"Your alchemist is a talented woman. However, she is like the rest of her family. She is not true born like she thinks, but only I and her half brother Anselm are aware of her true patronage," Artemisia explained.

"You aren't seriously saying…?" Lisa gasped. Artemisia nodded.

"Annalie is the daughter of Gregory House," Artemisia confirmed.

House was checking Remy's vitals at his home. It was later in the evening, and he had finally quenched his curiosity of the black hooded visitor. Artemisia's home had burned down. Now House was going to have to be stuck with her. "You knew my parents well," Remy remarked. House nodded stiffly.

"I knew your father better than your mother," House replied. The door opened and Wilson walked in.

"Do you know why Annalie is crying?" Wilson asked. House glared at his friend.

"No. As you can see, I'm with a patient," House growled. Wilson waved at Remy.

"You must be Remy Hadley. I'm James Wilson, the town surgeon," Wilson introduced himself. He and Remy shook hands. "Seriously, House, Annalie closed up shop and is crying hysterically. She won't even let Anselm near her." House sighed.

"I'll check on her in a minute. I'm almost done here," House grumbled. He turned his attention back to Remy. "I hope you don't mind I rush. Considering Annalie will be the one making any medication I deem you need, it's better she's in good condition," House apologized. Remy shrugged.

"It's fine. I'm meeting that High Priestess later," Remy replied.

"Your father's mother worked at the temple, right?" Wilson asked. Remy nodded. "It's a shame the place was attacked. You better make sure Artemisia is alright. I bet she's crushed."

"You just like her because she's sexy," House pointed out. Wilson glared at him.

"Shut up," Wilson growled. "Good night," he smiled before leaving. House leaned back with a sigh.

"You should be fine for now. You aren't showing that many symptoms. Come to me the second anything changes," House sighed. Remy nodded and stood to leave.

"Thank you, House, for doing this. It means a lot," Remy replied before leaving the room. House grabbed his cane. He knew he had to check on Annalie. The woman was a raging fire of emotions, and the second anything went off it was a true storm. The Healer found the Alchemist sitting sobbing on the ground, her body shaking. She looked up with a flaming rage in her eyes soaked with tears, and jumped to her feet.

"You... HOW THE HELL COULD YOU NOT TELL ME YOU KNEW MY MOTHER? MY LIFE IS A LIE BECAUSE YOU, GREGORY HOUSE, ARE AN ASS!" Annalie roared. She slapped him straight across the cheek.

"Wait, I was with your mother once, but it was years ago! Her father was a soldier and she was about to be married, and they were visiting Fair Fields. She wanted one last night of fun before she was given to your father!" House argued. Annalie shook her head.

"You know, I was born not even a year later. All this time I thought the man my mother married was my father, but now…" Annalie began to cry again. House thought for a moment. His heart dropped.

"Oh god, you don't think," House muttered.

"Well, you are certainly smarter than I believed you would be," Anselm sighed. "Our mother wanted one of us kids to know what really happened. She and her husband never once slept with each other, you know. They claimed Annalie as their own so that they could say their marriage was consummated." House raised an eyebrow.

"Why, out of all the children, would she tell you and not me, the one who she claimed was true born?" Annalie growled. Anselm closed his eyes.

"She knew it was better that you both stay in the dark until you needed to know. You do now. The Temple of Yar is dead. The mark of the demons was painted on the door. You two both must stand alongside your village, or else all is gone and worth nothing. A war is brewing, one foretold so many years ago none can keep track, and magic and earth must join together to fight against the darkness. You two are the greatest Healer and Alchemist known to man, and we need your skills more than ever," Anselm explained. House stumbled back. Demons. That was a piece of information not given to the general public. Whatever this was, it was more serious and twisted than House first calculated.

 **A/N: There we go guys. Sorry for the delay. I had a bad case of writer's block, so I decided to hell with it, we'll reveal one of my plot twists. Annalie House. *throws up hands* I have no idea where that beautiful gem came from, but it came to me all the same. Note how I somehow managed to never mention her last name (that I am aware of. I did skim through to double check). Also, nameless guy from last chapter gets a name now. Matthew! It's all changing now, guys! Is House changing his mind? Or is this just shock of the moment? Will Annalie calm down? Oh, but my twists are only starting. This is just the tiny little tip of a gigantic ice berg! I hope you all enjoyed, and as always, please leave a review!**


	9. Chapter 9

After House had stormed out, Annalie had run out as well. She ran straight into the arms of the only person she felt she could trust. Robert Chase was sitting near his fire reading, finally able to take a break from work. Chase stood as Annalie stepped into the room. She ran straight up to him and kissed him like he was air and she was choking. "I need you," Annalie breathed as she finally pulled back.

"What's wrong?" Chase asked, gently resting his hand on her arm.

"I don't… I don't even know," Annalie cried. She explained how Anselm had come to her and told her about her father, her true father. She explained what happened next, and how House had found her. When she was done, Chase was a shade paler.

"Y-You're the daughter of my b-boss," Chase swallowed. He ran a hand through his hair. "He doesn't know about us, does he?" Annalie quickly shook her head.

"Of course not, not one knows," Annalie assured him. Chase thought for a moment and drew Annalie into his embrace.

"I love you Annalie, you know that," Chase told her. "I will always be here for you." Annalie pulled back far enough to look her secret lover in the eyes.

"Then be here for me now. I need you more than ever," Annalie pleaded. Chase caved, and kissed her again, pulling her back into the bedroom.

House sat once more across from Wilson, staring into the fire. "Are you sure?" Wilson asked. House slowly nodded, almost mechanically. His mouth was dry, and he could feel his face was drained of color. The man leaned back in his chair, trying to gather his thoughts.

"It makes sense. They always said she was born a bit early, but if not," House sighed, his voice trailing off. He felt like someone had just thrown a boulder at his stomach, and that it got lodged there. He leaned forward again. "What do you think of what Anselm said about the war?" House asked. Wilson shrugged.

"I honestly don't know anymore. It'd certainly take a lot to kill everyone in the Temple of Yar," Wilson replied.

"I still think we should focus on human possibilities," House pondered. Wilson shook his head.

"I don't know House. I know you think so, but magic does exist. We've both seen it. Could it possibly be that this is the work of magic?" Wilson mused. House looked up at his friend with a new fire in his eyes.

"It could also just be some group of very talented people," House growled, standing up. "I'm going to bed." He went to his room before Wilson could answer, slamming the door behind him. He tossed his cane aside and didn't even bother changing. He just kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed, staring at the ceiling. He was too roused to think. A daughter. His daughter. Right under his nose, after all these years. It was a onetime mistake to sleep with a woman due to be married. Now he was regretting it more than ever.

Artemisia was sobbing in Remy's arms. Her home was gone. The one place she adored was gone. She lost the most important part to her. Now what could she do? What could she possibly do? There was nowhere to go back to. Artemisia was the last of her kind. She never felt so alone. "Tell me what I can do," Remy swallowed. Artemisia looked up. "I want to help."

"You here as a comfort is enough," Artemisia assured, resting a hand gently on Remy's cheek. The two woman studied each other. Artemisia pulled herself entirely up, blushing lightly. "I apologize. That was rather forward of me," Artemisia muttered. Remy chuckled, pulling Artemisia back towards her. Their faces hovered apart for a moment, eyes locked on each other.

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you think so," Remy breathed. She leaned forward, pressing her lips against Artemisia's. The High Priestess fumbled for a reaction, but ended up kissing the woman across from her back. They clutched at each other, just breathing in their essence, kissing like it was the only thing in the world. Finally Artemisia pulled back, looking at Remy as she tried to catch her breath.

"Let's take this slow then," Artemisia offered. Remy smiled. She was perfectly okay with that.

Chase watched Annalie fast asleep next to him. Sometimes she was strong and stubborn, but in moments like these, Chase knew she could also just as easily be willing to depend on another. He rested his hand on her back, trailing his finger down her spine. She stirred in her sleep but didn't wake. He had taken this apprenticeship in order to have an excuse to see Annalie, a reason for them meeting other than at some inn by chance far from Prynce. It was worth it though.

Still, as Chase turned over, he thought about House. His boss would probably end the apprenticeship as soon as he found out about Chase and Annalie. Why wouldn't he? Chase drew in a deep breath, rubbing his face. He'd be okay. No one could really find out about the two. They made sure they didn't meet outside of the dead of night. No one would know about them. He would fight for this secret until the end.

 **A/N: Sorry for the delay again. It's been a very long week... And I swear this one family member is the most selfish and entitled person I know. So, we finally get some reactions here. And more plot twists. Yeah, Chase and Annalie. I had that planned from the very beginning. And Artemisia and Remy FINALLY basically admitted they liked each other. That was the FIRST girl on girl scene I have ever written, and I must say I am proud. I'm bisexual, but I've never really had a girl and girl relationship in a book, so Artemisia and Remy are my guinea pigs. There really is not more to say here. I'm sorry I'm out of it. I woke up like an hour and a half ago to a bunch of texts trying to guilt me into deciding this one family member takes position over all this other stuff in my life and complained that I'll never visit (sorry my next break is short and I'll have to be working on a major paper during it. Not my fault! November is chaos month). Basically I'm just done with life right now. But I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I know I liked it, and please leave a review.**


	10. Chapter 10

The Night of Lights was soon upon the village of Prynce. The sun set in a beautiful cascade of orange and red. Artemisia stood at the edge of the village facing the west, a lit candle hovering above the palm of her right hand. Her eyes were golden yet silver once more, her dark red hair braided. For once she wore black, and had black ribbons intertwined with her hair. Lisa Cuddy stood a bit behind the High Priestess, and the villagers a bit behind her. All were in attendance, even Gregory House who stood off to the side away from the crowd, an outsider watching in.

As the sun met with the earth that stretched before her, Artemisia looked up, speaking in the ancient tongue. The Night of Lights was the night when the souls of those gone could be reached and honored. The realm of the dead and the realm of the living met on this night. Each villager knew someone who was now lost. Each villager held up a candle. Only House refused to hold a candle, though as a Healer he knew death more as an old friend as compared to some strange intangible stranger who haunted the night.

Artemisia continued the words she was taught as a child, feeling the coursing power of thousands of souls running through her veins. Her closest friends now joined those spirits long gone. She pictured every High Priestess and every guard of the Temple, and it took all her might not to let her voice crack. Instead she let her voice swell and grow stronger, the ancient tongue perhaps so foreign to the ears of those in this village. Only the High Priestesses knew that language. It was said the gods themselves created it. Darkness crept over the village as Artemisia finally stopped. She used the power surging through her veins to lift each and every candle towards the sky, shining like the stars that now began to glow in the darkening sky. The small children gasped in the strange beauty of it. Artemisia closed her eyes. She prayed for guidance and strength in this upcoming war. She prayed to be able to lead the people of this earth into the promised future the prophecies held. She prayed for victory.

House leaned into his cane, studying the floating candles. "I'm surprised you're here," Wilson sighed. House glanced over at his friend.

"I figured I had to see this at least once," House remarked.

"You never went as a child?" Wilson asked. House shook his head.

"We usually traveled," House explained. Wilson nodded slowly, looking up with a sigh.

"I'm surprised you wouldn't even light a candle for Annalie's mother," Wilson pointed out. "It's a respect thing." House glared.

"She's a bastard, not a true born. That means I don't have to claim her, or show any respect towards the woman who birthed her. It was one night," House growled.

"She wasn't Stacy," Wilson muttered. House glared once more before storming off. He didn't need to hear this, or remember any part of his past. He stormed home and brought out a cask of ale. He wanted to drink himself to sleep tonight. If any whore had not been at the gathering, he'd probably have called for her, but no such luck. In the past two weeks, he had sent Wilson to get his pills. House wanted nothing to do with Annalie, not at the moment. He'd see her eventually, but for Remy's sake. She had been rather stagnant in her symptoms, but gods knew how long that would last. House spent most of his time trying to discover an herb mix that could help. So far he had no luck.

With a sigh, House finally turned into his room. He could hear the voices of the village lifted in song, but he didn't care. He wanted sleep, to forget his pain. He wanted everything back to the way they were, when he didn't know Annalie was his child, and when he didn't have to worry about trying to save a life. House wanted this whole talk of shadows and demons to go away. One could only hope though, and that was all House would do.

Annalie stood near the back of the crowd as they began to sing. She lifted her candle to her mother, hoping for guidance. Chase stood a bit off to the side, and she kept glancing over at him. Her anxiety didn't help how she felt otherwise. She wanted to be curled back up in bed, to talk to Anselm. Anselm had left though, to go spread the news about the Temple of Yar. The people deserved to know. The fall wind made Annalie shiver. The winter would be fierce, she knew already. She could feel it in her bones. As the worship continued, a few people began to leave. Some more devout people would stay the night, perhaps those from the other village, finally recovering from their burns. Annalie took her leave as well, quietly motioning for Chase to follow. They went towards her house, to her secret basement.

"What's wrong?" Chase asked. Annalie looked up, trembling.

"They're going to find out about us," Annalie muttered. Chase rested his hand on her arm, shaking his head.

"No, Annalie, I promise they won't. You know I won't let them. Why are you afraid of that?" Chase assured. Annalie bit her lip turning away.

"Chase, they're going to find out," she repeated near tears.

"What has gotten into you?" Chase demanded. Annalie hung her head over, her fist pressed against her chest.

"I'm with child," Annalie muttered. The room fell silent.

"What?"

"I am pregnant, and the child is yours," Annalie explained, her voice heavy and full of sorrow. She turned to Chase, who had gone pale, looking deathly in the flickering light of the candles in the room.

"Then marry me. We will get through this," Chase swallowed.

"Are you sure? House… He'll know. Can you deal with that?" Annalie asked. Chase thought for a moment.

"This child may have been conceived base born, but I will not let it grow up without both its parents. I'll take on the world for you, Annalie, and I will not let you go," Chase answered, stepping forward and placing a hand on her stomach.

"Then we speak with Lisa Cuddy about our marriage in the morning," Annalie replied calmly.

Remy was half asleep, feeling hot as hell but shivering like she was naked in the snow. She sweat, but her skin was covered in goose bumps. Thus Artemisia found her around midnight when she finally left those who wished to sing and pray alone. Remy was naked, the sheets kicked off her bed. Artemisia pressed her hand against the girl's forehead. A chill fever. Every muscle in Remy's body ached, and had she the voice she would have been screaming in agony. Her eyes flutter open and shut and she could barely make out the face who pressed a towel drenched in ice water against her forehead and brought the sheets back on the bed.

Remy was barely aware when the door was thrust open. She could barely hear the frantic voices of the women she loved and the Healer who was caring for her as they chatted about her condition. Remy began to seize as a vision passed into her mind. It was a vision of war and a new Kingdom, the free lands united once more. She had a vision of creatures she had never seen but only heard of in stories her mother told her so long ago. Remy didn't know if it was an actual vision or just the fever. All she knew was her back arching on the bed as she finally cried out and House forced her down, yelling at Artemisia to get Wilson and fast. That was the last thing Remy recalled before the world turned to black.

The shadows stirred in the forest, their tongues clicking in the dead of night. The Shadow King, a demon of high standing with dark red eyes with no pupils, just blood red irises, and a tall, shadowy figure. He was amassing his forces. His first few attacks had gone well, but the main event was coming. He waited for the High Priestess, the last of her kind, to make her move. Would she continue to try and bring the Healer to her side? The Shadow King smiled, two rows of sharp fangs on top and bottom jaws glistening in the light of the moon that forced its way through the trees. He laughed, a menacing laugh straight from the depths of hell itself. "I'd like to see you try and defeat me, Artemisia of the Temple of Yar, bearer of the heir to a kingdom I will never let live," the Shadow King muttered. He motioned for his main servant. "Chase after the servant Anselm. Take him prisoner. It begins tonight," the demon barked. The shadows slithered off like snakes under the night sky. If Artemisia wouldn't make her move, the Shadow King would force her hand.

 **A/N: There are few things I am proud of, but my writing is one of them, and this chapter is perhaps one of my crown jewels so far. Consider this your Halloween special chapter as the Night of Lights is based very highly off of Samhain, the Celtic holiday thanks to which we have Halloween. The stakes are getting higher though. Annalie is now pregnant, and Remy's life is in the balance. House and Artemisia seem to be working together, but let's focus for a second on Artemisia. Could it very well be that she has a child? The Shadow King seems to hint at it. What about Remy's vision? What is this kingdom to come? Well, we have to wait and see. The war is here, perhaps finally, and it seems poor Anselm may be the first prisoner of war... Or will he be? I hope you all thoroughly enjoy this chapter. I may or may not post another one tomorrow. We shall see. As always, please leave a review!**


	11. Chapter 11

Anselm was riding as fast as he could on his horse. He'd spread the word to a few villages, but that was only the beginning. Of course, he was only dealing with the free realm. Matthew was going beyond those borders. Artemisia wanted Anselm closer. Anselm finally pulled aside from the road hoping to relieve himself. However, he saw the shadow move out of the corner of his eye. He drew his sword, body tense and ready to react at the slightest movement. The shadow was quick though and Anselm soon found himself facing darkness.

Remy was still unconscious. The chill fever had a strong hold on her. Artemisia pushed back Remy's sweat drenched hair. "You don't have to stay so close to her," House remarked, stepping into the room. He had gone that morning to try and find Annalie about a medicine to break the fever, but his daughter wasn't at home. Thus the Healer had returned empty handed.

"Do you understand love?" Artemisia asked. "Not superficial love, no, but something much deeper." House sighed heavily.

"Yes, I do," House replied. Artemisia looked up.

"I would say that if a certain someone in this village fell ill in the same way you would be sitting here same as I," Artemisia pointed out.

"Aren't you clever?" House mocked, pulling up a chair. "Why are you even still here? Your temple is destroyed. Why the hell do you stay here?" Artemisia glared at him, a fire in her almost black eyes that could both enchant and terrify the soul.

"Do not ever challenge my authority, Gregory House. I am the last of my kind, and I am not letting this war beat me now. This war has become personal more than you could ever imagine, and by the end of it the world will be a very different place," the High Priestess growled, her voice low and thick with anger.

"What do you mean by different?" House asked. Artemisia stood, closing the blinds and making sure the door was shut.

"Have you ever heard of the Kingdom Prophecy? It says the heir chosen will one day rule the free realms under one unified kingdom, a kingdom of dignity and honor after a war with the depths of hell is fought. It talks of the return of unicorns and dragons to the lands, and other creatures of the like. It will be a kingdom of peace," Artemisia explained. She turned to face House. "I know you do not believe in such magic, but I tell you it is true."

"Who's this heir then?" House inquired, eyebrow raised. Artemisia looked away.

"I have my thoughts, though I must hold my tongue. A High Priestess of Yar is a watcher, a protector. We make sure the prophecy runs its course, and do not point out what we believe to be true of its contents other than the clear and plain message. The Great Pool turning black was the first sign of the prophecy, and the return of shadows was the next. It is clear the words are in motion, but to all else I must keep to my vow of silence until the heir is revealed by other means," Artemisia replied. She sat back down as Remy began to tremble again.

"This one is bad," House sighed. He glanced over at the nightstand and picked up a pendant. "Where the hell did she get this?" he muttered.

"The pendant? You know of it?" Artemisia breathed. House nodded slowly.

"My parents gave it me when I was a kid, said it was a family heirloom. I gave it to Remy's mother when she got sick. I didn't need it, didn't want it. She liked it though," House explained. "Jacob always got quiet and sort of pale when he saw it."

"The sigil on it is of a sphinx," Artemisia remarked.

"That's the sigil of your temple, isn't it? The wise sphinx?" House asked, turning towards her. Artemisia stayed silent, just as Wilson walked into the room.

Annalie and Chase stood before Lisa Cuddy. "Why do you want it so soon?" Lisa asked.

"House won't want us getting married. We want it done before he can say anything about it," Annalie replied. Lisa thought for a moment.

"Alright, I'll do it, but only so that House can't fire Chase seeing as I ordained this," Lisa sighed. Annalie and Chase both lightly sighed in relief, stepping forward to her desk. The woman took out her quill and signed her place on the marriage certificate. "Sign here," she pointed. The couple followed the instruction quickly and with ease. The deed was done, and not a moment too soon before House stormed into the room.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded.

"You just witnessed the marriage of Robert and Annalie Chase," Lisa replied, that taunting look of authority on her face. House went silent for a moment, fire in his eyes.

"No, I won't let them. She's my kid, and he's my apprentice," House growled.

"Every other village in the free realms says that that is normal," Lisa argued.

"Cuddy, you had no right," House yelled. Cuddy raised a hand.

"I had every right, and it's done. Deal with it. You keep Chase as an apprentice, and you suck it up," the woman ordered. House glared for a moment.

"Annalie, get back to your damn job now. I need you. My special patient is in need of something to stop her chill fever," House snapped.

"You have a patient with a chill fever?" Lisa asked. House nodded stiffly.

"Remy Hadley, daughter of Jacob Hadley," House replied.

"Annalie, go do what you can," Lisa urged. The Alchemist nodded stiffly and dutifully before running out of the room.

"What should-?" Chase began.

"Shut up," House cut him off growling. He stormed back out of the room.

"He'll warm up, eventually," Lisa assured.

"Are you sure?" Chase asked.

"Yes, I am," Lisa replied.

The letter came in the evening. Written in blood was Anselm's name. With shaking hands, Artemisia held the paper. She sat in the candle light next to Remy's bed. The herb mix Annalie had brought stopped the seizing, but the fever still held strong. If it held any longer… No, Artemisia wouldn't think of it. It was enough that Anselm was taken. The High Priestess wiped away her tears. "Come back to me, my love. I need you. I'm so alone," Artemisia muttered, grabbing Remy's clammy hand, drenched in sweat but icy cold.

"How long have you been interested in women?" House suddenly asked. He sat down on the other side of the bed and began drenching a towel in some paste.

"A few decades or so," Artemisia sighed. "What paste is that?" House shrugged, placing it over Remy's face.

"Chamomile and lemon balm to help her sleep, feverfew for the fever, as well as a few others," House replied. "How old are you?"

"Older than you could imagine, yet young compared to my people," Artemisia explained. "I loved only one man, and that for a short time. After that I realized it was not that sex that I was drawn to." She stood to grab another blanket as Remy began to shiver with cold.

"She'll probably die," House remarked coldly. Artemisia bit her lip.

"I know," Artemisia breathed. She couldn't face it, but the truth was there. "Even the magic I have is not enough. There is no spell to stop this illness, and it came on so quickly." Artemisia had a sudden mind to go to the forest, but she couldn't. One last night. She would try to spend one last night with Remy before she turned her face to the darkness. Anselm was strong. He'd be alright for now. Artemisia needed just to focus and figure out exactly what her next move would be.

 **A/N: I was on a roll last night and I typed out most of this chapter after finishing the last one. So, Remy seems to be dying... And Anselm is taken. Annalie and Chase are married while House is upset about it. We also learn a little bit about Artemisia... This should be interesting. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and please leave a review.**


	12. Chapter 12

A week had passed, and there was still no improvement. Remy was still suffering the fever. It was clear now that if she broke the fever it would be too late. The damage would have been done. Remy was in a coma. Artemisia hadn't eaten in days. She was withering away, but didn't feel the pangs of hunger. Worry had settled in her mind, worry for Remy and for Anselm. She was still weighing her options on the latter. What could she do? What would her next move be?

"You need to eat," House urged. Artemisia didn't even bother looking up.

"Since when do you care about my well being?" Artemisia asked. House sighed heavily.

"If you die and I did nothing, then Cuddy will have my head," House remarked. Artemisia looked up.

"You love her," Artemisia muttered. House's eyes narrowed.

"No, I don't," he replied.

"I can see it in you when you talk about her. There's something in the way you mention her name," Artemisia pointed out. House frowned.

"Stay out of my life. Be glad I'm tolerating you this much," House growled. Artemisia stood.

"I told you that in order to win this war we need each other," Artemisia reminded him.

"I don't give a damn about this war! I care about my patient!" House shouted.

"You never care about the patient," Artemisia remarked.

"She's different," House muttered. He turned around and stormed back out of the room.

Annalie had to actually stay in bed. She had never felt so ill in her life. She was half asleep when the door opened. "I need my pills," House snapped. Annalie groaned, pulling the blanket over her head.

"Go away," she groaned. House raised an eyebrow.

"You're sick," House pointed out. Annalie sighed.

"Is it that obvious?" she asked.

"Wait, you aren't actually… Well, someone got lucky," House laughed. Annalie threw a pillow.

"Pills are under the counter. Third shelf," Annalie revealed. House left the room. She must have fallen asleep afterwards, because when she opened her eyes the sun was going down.

"How do you feel?" Chase asked. He was changing at the end of the bed. Annalie sat up.

"I feel a bit better. House stopped by earlier," Annalie yawned.

"I'm aware. He was teasing me when he finally came into work," Chase sighed. Annalie frowned, crawling to the end of the bed and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"He's just upset. That Hadley girl… She's not getting better," Annalie reminded him.

"She's going to die," Chase muttered.

"He knows that too, so he's going to make everyone else as miserable as possible," Annalie agreed. Chase turned around.

"Do you think you'll want to eat dinner?" Chase asked. Annalie shrugged.

"Just get me some bread and butter, I guess," Annalie sighed.

Night had fallen and the village was asleep. Artemisia had finally pulled herself away from Remy. The High Priestess needed the air. She stood facing the forest. She held out her hand, a few twigs tied together in her palm. A red string tied the twigs together. Artemisia felt the power surging through her. She held out a lit match with the other hand, moving the stick back and forth over the twigs. "Give me back what is lost. Let life continue where it is needed. The shadows pass when the flames grow high. Give me back what is mine," Artemisia muttered. She lit the twigs and tossed it in the forest, throwing as hard as she could. She blew out the match, leaving her in darkness. She had made her move. Now she just hoped to see Anselm again. The woman turned, her cloak trailing behind her. She had to return now, return to the woman she loved.

House was falling asleep, until he saw out of the corner of his eye Remy shaking. She was seizing again. House stood, his eyes wide. Remy's eyes opened wide, her back arching as she shook. "The war shall come, light versus shadows. The kingdom divided shall unite once more. That which was forgotten will be seen again. The King of Darkness shall lose his throne," her raspy voice called out. Artemisia had just entered the room, Remy convulsing. Her breath had become rapid, her eyes opening and shutting as her body jerked. Then it stopped. Remy's body fell limp, her eyes shut. The breathing stopped. House and Artemisia ran forward. There was no pulse.

"No, no, gods no!" Artemisia cried. "Not her, don't take her." House pulled her back.

"It's done," House whispered in her ear. Artemisia shook her head, leaning into his embrace.

"No… It can't… Greg no," she cried. House froze.

"Why did you call me Greg?" he asked breathlessly. Artemisia looked up.

"You haven't figured it out?" she swallowed. House shook his head slowly. His gaze fell back to the bed. Remy was dead. House had failed. He looked over at the pendant again. The sphinx… It couldn't. No. Artemisia crumbled to the ground sobbing as House stumbled back. No. He grabbed his cane, stepping out of the room. He kept walking, straight to Wilson's hut.

"What's wrong?" Wilson asked, seeing his friend's paleness.

"My father never told me who my real mother was," House muttered.

"House, why does that matter? What's wrong? Is it Remy?" Wilson inquired, walking over to his friend. House just looked at him.

"My father fell in love with a High Priestess, and I just watched her lose the love of her life," House mused. "My mother is Artemisia."

 **A/N: So... That all happened. Why? Why did I kill my favorite character in the entire show? I don't... Why? *heavy sigh* Okay, we have some massive stuff going on here. Before I get into that, I'm going to apologize for late posting. It's been a busy week. I've been doing Nanowrimo and I haven't really had time to write anything else. Okay, where to begin now? Let's start with the elephant in the room. I took the plot arc from the show where House doesn't know who his real dad is and switched it. Artemisia is his mother. Yeah, I've had that one in mind for a while now. Next, what did Artemisia do with the twigs? We will have to find out. On a side note, it's funny to have a character named Annalie. The main character of my Nanowrimo novel is actually this Annalie's namesake. It's interesting to go from one to the other in the same day. Let's look ahead now. I don't know how much I will post this month. I'm busy. Lots of writing for Nanowrimo. I will be able to post more during my Thanksgiving school break. However, December will be mass catch up month. I will be going back to regular posting in December, and on top of that I will be adding a new fan fiction. Go to my profile to learn more. I try and update my profile regularly. If you ever want to know what I'm working on, or what is to come, check that out. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and as always please leave a review. (Also, I am totally not sorry for leaving on a major plot twist not knowing when I'll be writing next)**


	13. Chapter 13

House stormed into Cuddy's office. She turned to him, her eyes narrowed. "I just heard. Cameron told me. I'm sorry about Remy," Cuddy greeted. House slammed the door behind him, walking up to her. He hooked his arm behind her waist, tossing aside his cane.

"I love you," he muttered, leaning in and kissing her. The village leader pushed him back, shock written over her face.

"What the hell?" Cuddy breathed. The door reopened.

"House! What the hell? You just stormed off! What's with you? How did you even find this out?" Wilson demanded.

"Find what out?" Cuddy asked. House looked back and forth between them.

"Artemisia is my mother," House explained. "I gave Remy's mother this pendant. It was some sort of family heirloom I never cared for. The phoenix is the symbol of Yar."

"Wait… What?" Cuddy stammered. House sighed.

"What about Remy though? Something had to have happened," Wilson pushed.

"She's dead," House muttered. Wilson stumbled back like a wall had hit him.

"Oh my god," he breathed.

"Oh shut up. It was expected to happen," House growled.

"You need to go and get some rest. You're obviously disturbed," Cuddy urged. House just looked at her, studying her eyes.

"Fine, but just think about what I said," House sighed, leaving the room. Wilson raised an eyebrow.

"What did he tell you?" Wilson asked. Cuddy shook her head.

"Nothing important," she replied. "Make sure he's okay, Wilson." Wilson nodded in agreement. He was going to need them more than ever.

Artemisia knelt next to the bed, her mouth dry as she held the cold, dead hand of Remy. Her heart felt as though it were bleeding. Why did she have to call him Greg? She had made so many stupid mistakes, and they were adding up now. "Why'd you have to leave so soon?" Artemisia cried, her tears hitting the stiff hand. She had nowhere to turn, no one to talk to. Anselm was missing, and her people were dead. She had said one word, and House was pushed away. The door opened.

"You should really get some rest," Cameron suggested. Artemisia looked up. "I'll be here for when the undertaker gets here. Go on, get some rest." Artemisia stood.

"H-How is House holding up?" Artemisia asked. Cameron shrugged.

"I don't know. I'm sure he's pissed, but I don't know," Cameron replied. Artemisia rubbed her arms. She should have said something sooner. She stayed silent though. She waited until she slipped up. Damn, she was so stupid sometimes. She probably messed everything up. There was nothing that could be done now though.

"Alright, perhaps I shall see you later on then," Artemisia mumbled, reluctantly leaving the room. She did need rest. She could feel it in her bones. She needed sleep, a way to put it all behind. She felt like she losing her mind, and that there was nothing to be done. She retreated to her room, letting her head hit the pillow without even changing. Her eyes fluttered shut. She could only hope that what she had done would be enough.

Anselm's eyes shot open. He was on the ground, sunlight hitting his skin. It was like his body was on fire. Where was he? His head felt so hazy, his mind in the clouds. Nothing made sense, not really. He groaned, looking to his right. The village of Prynce met his gaze. So he was back here. He forced himself up, his body shaking, muscles not wanting to work. No, he had to push himself. He had to get to Artemisia, or even House. He would need to see the Healer it seemed. There was no avoiding that. Unable to stand, he began to crawl, every movement sending new shots of pain through his nerves.

The moving was slow, the grass scratching his skin. He felt like dry parchment that had been left to wither in the sun. Maybe he should get to House first. He kept moving, pulling his body with all his might. Barely a few inches into the village, his body suddenly gave out. He collapsed, screaming in agonizing pain. Someone came out. He couldn't tell who. He could barely see, his eyes blurring. He tried to speak, tried to communicate. "H-Hou…" His eyes fell shut and he screamed again in pain before he could finish. The person had touched him. He tried to pull away, but it made it hurt worse. He passed out when it suddenly became too much.

"He'll be okay. We have him sleeping for now. The nerves should die down in a day or so," House muttered when Cuddy came to see him that evening. Anselm had been an interesting and sudden case. He had only just had Chase tell Artemisia of the return. He couldn't face her himself.

"How are you holding up?" Cuddy asked. House tensed.

"If this is about earlier," he breathed. She grabbed his arm, making him face her.

"It is, House," she sighed, leaning forward and pressing her lips against his. House's mind struggled for a moment, but soon he found himself kissing back, taking in her feminine scent. He slipped his hands around her waist. He nuzzled his nose into her neck as he pulled away. "Let's try and make this work. I need you," Cuddy whispered. Smiling, House pulled her back into the bedroom.

Annalie sat beside the cot. "Are you okay?" Chase asked. She looked up quickly, her hand on her abdomen.

"Y-Yeah, I think so," Annalie muttered, looking back down at her half brother. The same mother, but different fathers. It all seemed to strange now, even more than it had been when they were children growing up. She wanted to touch Anselm's hand, to reassure him. She couldn't though, not unless she wanted him to wake of screaming again.

"Artemisia is on her way," Chase remarked, pulling up a chair.

"How did she seem?" Annalie inquired. Chase shrugged.

"She seemed… relieved in a way. She's still shaken up though. I can tell," Chase replied.

"How would you feel if you lost me? Artemisia loved Remy, and she was gone so soon. I can only imagine how hurt she is," Annalie pointed out. Chase leaned forward, pulling his wife into his lap.

"This is what we have to face," Chase muttered. "We're facing a war and we have no idea who will survive it."

"Shut up," Annalie growled. She didn't want to face it. She couldn't. It would tear her apart. She would just have to keep on thinking of the light at the end of the tunnel.

The flames gathered, burning so bright. The shadows moved back and forth. The woman was running as fast as her feet would take her. Her husband burned in those flames. She had barely escaped. Bits of skin were heavily burned, but she couldn't worry about that now. She had to keep running. She had to push until she couldn't. Prynce wasn't far off. She just needed to get there. This was the next attack. She had to warn him.

 **A/N: Hey guys! Finally got some extra writing time! So let's bring in my OTP, have a dash of Anselm, and keep on running. Who was there at the end? Not telling. I'm thinking ahead right now... We have two weeks in November left (right around anyways), and at the end I will be done with Nanowrimo. What does that mean? December will be mass chaos of catch up. The best part about Nanowrimo is that I'm getting used to writing a lot every day, which is a good habit. Let's talk about December. I will probably be ending and deleting my fan fiction called Memories. In its place will be a new fan fiction (see profile). I may also be adding a Marvel fan fiction either in December or January. I don't know which month, it just depends on how far into the plot I can get. If this works, it'll be fun. Other news, I just wanted to say thank you for reading. I haven't been updating much this month, but there has been so many views each day across the board for my fan fictions. It really warms my heart. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Please leave a review!**


	14. Chapter 14

Cuddy and House were half asleep in each other's arms as the sun trickled into the room. It was early morning, the prior day all a blur in their minds. House was about to drift back to sleep, but he soon remembered why he had even woken up. "House! Get out here!" Wilson snapped.

"Just go," Cuddy groaned as she turned over. House got up with a sigh, his limp a little bit better. He dressed and walked over to the front door.

"Why the hell weren't you answering?" Wilson demanded.

"I was sleeping," House growled. "What do you need anyways?"

"We just got word from Grendil that there was another attack on another nearby village. Two survivors, both with trauma. You're needed," Wilson explained. House bit his lip and looked back.

"I'll be right there," House sighed, closing the door. He walked back into the bedroom. "You need to get up. There was another attack. I'm sure they're looking for you." Cuddy groaned.

"Are you serious?" Cuddy asked.

"Yeah, that's why Wilson is pounding on the door. We have two survivors. I'll go talk to them," House replied. He grabbed his cane and went out. The morning was warm, but House was slowly remembering the day before. He remembered watching Remy die, and his conversation with Artemisia. He would have to face her eventually, but he refused to do so now. He was willing to jump straight into this new case. Having Anselm as a case helped as well. It was a gold mine of a distraction. He stepped into the Healer's Hut and his heart stopped.

"They arrived not that long ago," Chase announced, not even looking up. Annalie was wrapping burns, both women asleep. "They're resting right now. They ran all night to get here, collapsing not long after telling Grendil what happened."

"I know the one," House breathed.

"Who is she?" Cameron asked.

"Her name is Stacy," Wilson answered. "I didn't even realize she was… God, the attack on that village can't have been coincidence." House looked back at him.

"I need to see Cuddy," House remarked.

"We don't know where she is. She wasn't at home or in her office," Chase argued.

"She might be with Artemisia," Wilson suggested. House tensed. That would be Cuddy's first move. With another attack, the situation was getting worse, and fast. Of course she would go to tell Artemisia, the last person House wanted to see.

"I'll head there then," House muttered, walking over to Artemisia's room. Cuddy sat in a chair, head in hands. Artemisia was curled up in bed, though she sat up as soon as the door opened. "We may have a problem," House explained.

"What do you mean?" Cuddy asked.

"One of the survivors is Stacy," House replied. Cuddy bit her lip.

"You know this Stacy?" Artemisia asked. Her voice was a bit hoarse, perhaps from crying all night. She certainly looked like she had been. It wouldn't surprise House to say the least. She had lost the woman she loved.

"Yeah, we have a history," House snapped. He didn't want to be anywhere near the same room as her, but he had no choice. Cuddy had chosen to go to Artemisia, and House needed to see Cuddy.

"That may mean that this attack was done for a reason," Artemisia hypothesized.

"House, let's talk in the hall," Cuddy sighed. The two stepped out of the room. "You're concerned because you slept with me, aren't you?" she quickly asked in a hushed voice.

"Yeah, I finally move on with my life and my ex comes back into the picture," House replied sharply. Cuddy crossed her arms.

"House, are you serious about you and me?" Cuddy asked.

"As long as you're willing to be, I'll be right there with you," House answered. She thought for a moment.

"Go, treat her. She's a patient, and the survivor of another attack. Treat her as one. Also, you should talk to Artemisia. She feels horrible about things. You need to face her," Cuddy sighed.

"I'll talk to her eventually, but not now. Just let it drop. I should get back. I just thought you should know Stacy is here," House growled. He went to walk away but Cuddy grabbed his arm.

"I love you," Cuddy muttered. House smirked.

"I love you too."

 **A/N: Okay it's a bit of a short chapter, but I felt like I hit a perfect ending point. Stacy enters the tale! I liked her as a character, to be honest. The other survivor will be important as well. All in good time though. We aren't there yet. So, this is more reacting to last chapter if anything. Sorry if I add a lot of stuff at once with this. My brain is on rapid fire creative rush lately. Okay, let's decompress a bit. House and Cuddy are now a thing. House also wants nothing to do with Artemisia. I can't blame him. I'd be pretty upset as well. Anselm is also stable. I didn't mention that, but do assume he is. Obviously he's important here. He survived and came back for a reason. Not much else really happened in this chapter. I'm planning on drawing a few things out. AKA I know where I want this to go, and in order to keep it from reaching the end rather soon, I need to let things settle with chapters like this. At least I know where I am going in this! With that out of the way, I have a few announcements. We are reaching the end of November rather rapidly here and I am sensing the coming end to my Nanowrimo project! I've also figured things out so that I use a certain class period I have to write for Nanowrimo, giving me time to work on fan fictions in the evening. Monday and Tuesday will be the only days I can't do that. I also plan on having a binge write day for Nanowrimo probably Wednesday so that I can be finished by not this weekend but next weekend. However, December will be mass catch up month. I plan on updating a LOT during the month, particularly working on my newest fan fiction. It's a Marvel fan fiction. If you want details, CHECK OUT MY PROFILE! Seriously. If you ever want to know what I am planning on doing in the future, and whatever my most current fan fiction is, check out my profile. I update it weekly if not more. Wow, I'm writing a lot. So, check out my profile to figure out what's up and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always, please leave a review!**


	15. Chapter 15

Anselm groaned as he opened his eyes. His head was swimming and pounding. "Relax, Anselm. You've had a rough time," Chase ordered. With a groan, Anselm looked around. He was in the Healer's Hut. He could see that now.

"W-Where's Artemisia?" Anselm asked, his voice hoarse. He tried to sit up, but Chase eased him back down.

"Your sister is getting her, don't worry. Just rest," Chase replied. Anselm tried to shake his head, but he was too tired. He was so weak, and memories were just swirling in his head. He didn't understand what was going on. He wanted to curl back up and sleep. His body ached.

"Y-You… you're Ch-Chase," Anselm muttered breathlessly. Chase nodded.

"Technically also your brother in law," Chase breathed. Anselm tried to sit up.

"What? My what?" he snapped. The door opened and Annalie walking in with Artemisia.

"Anselm, you're awake," Annalie sighed in relief. She looked at Chase. "You just had to say something,' she growled.

"I've been up all night. It slipped," Chase snapped.

"You should rest. I'll take over," Forman offered. Chase hesitantly stood.

"Go home. I'll meet you there later," Annalie urged. Chase kissed her forehead and left the hut. Artemisia ran forward to see Anselm.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly. Anselm shrugged. He felt so out of touch. What was real and what wasn't?

"The forest," he muttered.

"I'm aware, Anselm. I know you were taken," Artemisia replied. Anselm grabbed her wrist.

"You don't. You really don't," Anselm growled before he fell back asleep.

House sat watching Stacy. He was tense, so tense. It seemed like life was against him, throwing a bit of line and then yanking it back. Finally Stacy began to wake up. "Wh-Where am I?" she asked softly.

"Prynce," House muttered. Stacy raised an eyebrow.

"Gregory House," she sighed. "The attack… This thing is after Prynce. It won't stop."

"We had that notion," Artemisia cut in. She must have just come in from the other room. House turned to face her, tensing.

"Why the hell are you in here?" House growled.

"This is a war, House. Shut up and let me fight it," Artemisia snapped.

"You're the last person I want near my patients right now," House spat.

"Greg, who is this woman?" Stacy asked.

"The last High Priestess of Yar," House replied, not turning to look at her.

"His mother," Artemisia corrected. House just glared.

"Let's take this outside," he barked. Artemisia wasn't going to budge, so House grabbed her arm and dragged her out into the evening. "Don't start spreading this whole you're my mother thing to people! I don't need them knowing. I don't want them knowing!" he yelled.

"What's so wrong about it?" Artemisia asked. "It's only the truth, one you need to face."

"You left. You left after I was born. Then you barge in thinking you can take control. I have more than just a damn issue about this," House growled.

"What could I do? I am a High Priestess. I had my duties!" Artemisia cried.

"Is that all this ever is? Duty? Is every damn thing a damn bit of duty?" House yelled. Artemisia stumbled back.

"Have I hurt you this much?" she asked quietly.

"Are you really this much of an idiot?" he snapped.

"Both of you need to calm down," Cuddy suddenly cut in. "Seriously, if there is any time you need to get along, it's now. Why are you not inside with Stacy?"

"We had to talk, Cuddy," House muttered. Cuddy sighed.

"I'll deal with this later. Now go in and do your damn job," she demanded. House wasn't in a mood to argue with her, so he decided to comply. Stacy was sitting up now, a cup of tea in her hands. Annalie was sitting with her.

"Artemisia is your mother?" Annalie asked.

"And this is why I wanted to do this inside," House groaned under his breath. "Yeah, now let's focus. What do you mean about the attack, Stacy?"

"They attacked us and said Prynce is next. The next show is coming," Stacy answered, setting aside her tea. "I thought you'd be happier to find your mother."

"You tend to presume an awful lot about what makes me happy," House shot back. Stacy smiled.

"You haven't changed," Stacy remarked.

"No, I haven't had a reason to," House replied. "I've had every damn reason not to. People never change though, and they never will."

"That's a stupid notion," Annalie muttered.

"But it's a true one," House replied. He looked at Stacy and realized, some things never change, but sometimes things do. All the while, people as a whole, they never changed.

 **A/N: I decided on another short chapter since you guys don't mind them. I actually also just put House on... After finishing Jessica Jones which is AMAZING by the way. I watched the entire season in a day. Okay, plot stuff. I have to say I like the tension in this chapter. We're really seeing how House is reacting to things, and Anselm is awake! That means good things! Maybe? Well, we have a lot to take care of at the moment with the Stacy-House-Cuddy thing going on, and not to mention people are starting to learn about Artemisia and House... I wonder how Annalie reacted to that. Anyways, I just wanted to thank you all. I know there are some who are constant reviewers and let me tell you that it makes me so happy to see that email in my inbox after I post a chapter. Also, by tonight we will be reaching a thousand views! (we're about three views below last I checked) This is insane! I am so happy that you all like this so much. I love learning what genres work best for me, and I hope you guys read some of my other fan fictions as well just so you can see how I handle different genres and different views. So, thank you all so much for reading and as always please leave a review!**


	16. Chapter 16

Anselm was sitting up in bed finally, his eyes staring at the door. He was rather quiet, not wanting to speak to anyone other than Artemisia. Finally the High Priestess had a free moment after taking care of the village accident. She pulled up a chair next to Anselm's bed. "How are you feeling?" Artemisia asked softly. Anselm looked away.

"I feel so weak," he admitted. Artemisia rested her hand over his. "When will Remy be buried?" Anselm asked. Artemisia closed her eyes.

"On the morrow," she sighed painfully. "That is not important."

"No, we are in the midst of war," Anselm agreed.

"What did you see?" Artemisia inquired. "What happened?" Anselm's eyes shot down.

"It's bad, Artemisia. What we though before… It's all true. The king of the shadows… He means to destroy everything," Anselm growled. He took a deep breath. "He's in the center of the forest."

"The most ancient evil has finally been awoken," Artemisia muttered. Her worst fears were all coming true. It sent a massive shiver down her spine.

"Do we have any hope?" Anselm asked. Artemisia shrugged.

"If what has been said is true, then we have some, perhaps even all the hope we need. However, House won't join our cause easily," Artemisia explained.

"You told him," Anselm groaned.

"I called him by his first name. I had no choice. He knew that something was going on," Artemisia answered.

"I still don't understand how I've survived," Anselm remarked.

"Once you are healed I will tell you everything you wish to know as long as it is within my capability," Artemisia assured, getting up to walk away. She took one last look at Anselm who was starting to fall back to sleep. She'd done all she could. The rest was up to him if he wished to live.

Morning came with a chill in the air. The sky was dim and dark, the sun nowhere to be seen. The world was dismal and depressed. House stood leaning on his cane, his eyes locked on the body on the pyre. They had preserved Remy's corpse as best they could. House felt as though he had failed, failing himself and Jacob… He had failed so many people. Cuddy stood near House, though not near enough to cause suspicion in the others. Artemisia stood closest the pyre. For once she wore black, and she never had seemed so pale. Annalie walked over. "I'm sorry," she breathed.

"For what?" House growled, looking over at her.

"I snapped at you, pushed you away. I can't help but wonder… Did what happen between us have any bearing on Remy's death?" Annalie mused. House shook his head.

"It was inevitable. We didn't realize she was that far along," House replied. He still felt guilty as hell. It ate away at him. He looked over and saw Stacy. She had begun healing quicker than her friend. Thus she was here, like a dark reminder to House. They hadn't spoken since the last time. He refused to go into the room she was resting in. Now he was keeping as far away from her as he could.

"She'll be gone soon enough," Annalie assured. "I heard her talking about moving in with a cousin in one of the kingdoms. She wants to be nowhere near this."

"What is this?" House asked.

"Artemisia wants to talk to us all later on, maybe tomorrow when the mourning period is over and she's gotten her thoughts collected. She'll explain things," Annalie explained. House nodded stiffly, watching Artemisia begin to burn the pyre. The flames licked the pile of wood and straw, kissing Remy's dead skin. Smoke rose in the air thick with the threat of an oncoming storm.

"It's going to rain," House commented.

"We'll be inside soon enough," Cuddy sighed. "I thought they were going to bury her." House shook his head.

"Her father was the son of a servant in the Temple. Their custom is to burn not bury," House argued.

"Since when do you respect customs?" Annalie asked.

"Since they're sort of mine," House growled, his eyes shifting to Artemisia. The High Priestess looked back and they locked eyes. It was a cold glare from the both of them. Tension was high.

"You need to speak to her," Cuddy urged. House didn't answer. He focused back on the flames, watching them devour the pyre, devour Remy. The heat pulsed from the pyre, caressing House's face. He turned.

"I'm going back," he muttered, walking away. Wilson took note and ran after him.

"What's been going on with you?" Wilson demanded. House stopped, craning his neck to glare at his friend.

"Don't go there," House growled. Wilson crossed his arms.

"House, something is going on with you. What is it?" Wilson pushed. House closed his eyes.

"You really don't want to know," House repeated.

"I think I need to," Wilson replied. House opened his eyes.

"I slept with Cuddy," House confessed. Wilson shook his head.

"You… She'd never," Wilson breathed. House swallowed another pill. The pain in his leg was getting to him.

"Well I did," House muttered. "It happened, and it's a thing."

"How are you handling everything else?" Wilson asked. House huffed, turning away.

"I'm dealing," House muttered, walking away.

Annalie had her head in Chase's lap, half asleep. They'd been working all day on their three patients, House locked away in his home. Wilson and Artemisia had both tried to get him out, but he wouldn't leave. Finally it was late at night and the two newlyweds had finally gotten home. Chase was eating, but Annalie didn't want anything. "How are you feeling?" Chase asked.

"Better than I have been," Annalie sighed. Chase pushed her hair back with his free hand, the other balancing his bowl of food.

"That's good," Chase remarked, causing Annalie to smile. "So Artemisia wants to see us all in the morning. Do you think House will come?"

"He wants answers same as the rest of us. He's going to come," Annalie assured. She knew it was true as well. They all needed answers. He was going to face whatever he had to in order to get them.

 **A/N: Alright hey guys! I'm going to just jump straight to the gun. While I did finish Nanowrimo early this week, I am not sure how often I'll be posting in the future. I've had some family things throwing some curve balls and long story short I'm not sure how often I'll be around wifi and what not. However, I will be posting as often as I can. Life is a jerk and loves throwing curve balls. It is what it is. So let's chat about the chapter. We are getting closer to our answers! I have been reading reviews and taking thoughts into consideration. I can confirm that next chapter we will get some answers! Long awaited explanations are to be revealed! People will also be butting heads. Tensions are high and need to be resolved and so they will. That at least will give you something to look forward to. I'll be attempting to write as soon as possible. Thank you all for reading this chapter as it is a bit longer than what we've been dealing with. As always, please leave a review!**


	17. Chapter 17

House glared across the room at Artemisia. Her hair was braided back tightly and put in a bun. She seemed tired and much older, her mouth curving into a resting frown. Her body was tense as well. She, House, Cuddy, Annalie, Chase, and Wilson sat in Cuddy's office. It was midday, but it was the first chance they all had to gather. Their burn victims were having some issues that morning, and had only just been calmed down enough for Cameron and Forman to keep watch. "Where do we begin?" Cuddy asked. To keep appearances, she and House were sitting on opposite sides of the room. The door opened and Sir Grendil stormed in.

"Why didn't anyone tell me we were meeting?" the man growled.

"I tried to send word," Artemisia quietly replied. Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Grendil just grabbed a seat. "I suppose we should begin at the very start of this all," Artemisia cleared her throat. "This land was not always free as it is now. Once it was a great kingdom, one filled with strange creatures now seen as only legends. It was only when the gods began to fight that it all changed."

"What gods?" House huffed under his breath bitterly. Artemisia's eyes narrowed in a cold glare.

"The Temple of Yar worships the gods forgotten, the gods most of the world still sees fit to acknowledge," she explained coolly. "As I was saying, the gods fought, and with them Man took sides, breaking the once great kingdom. In time the threat was set down, a god named Zelfios who lurked in shadows. The gods banned him from the world they returned to, but understanding the nature of his banishment, vowed that he would one day return when the Great Pool became like night."

"Which it's done, right?" Annalie asked as she leaned forward. Artemisia stiffly nodded.

"They also explained in prophecy that only the chosen heir to the ancient throne of the old kingdom and the gods' chosen followers would be able to stop Zelfios once and for all in the weakened state he would be in," Artemisia finished. The room fell quiet for a moment, and Artemisia realized that she would need to continue. "When the Great Pool turned black, my people were unsure if the prophecy was truly coming. However, Anselm has confirmed that the king of shadows, that Zelfios, has returned. He has awoken an ancient power that you may in fact feel if you dare go close to Forest of Shadows."

"Who do you think the heir is?" Grendil asked. Artemisia closed her eyes as she leaned back.

"That is our problem, Sir Grendil. There are many possibilities, all of whom sit in this room," Artemisia sighed heavily. House raised an eyebrow.

"Annalie would be one, right? That's why you told us about me being her father," House hypothesized.

"Yes, which makes you one because of me," Artemisia confirmed.

"What does you mean it's because of you?" Chase inquired. Artemisia and House glared at each other.

"It's not important, is it?" Wilson cut in. Chase just shrugged, wrapping an arm around his wife.

"The problem with Annalie is that she is with child, meaning there is yet another option. Grendil, your father's grandfather was once employed by the Temple of Yar, was he not?" Artemisia continued.

"Yes, I'm surprised you knew," Grendil stammered. Artemisia pursed her lips in thought for a moment.

"You also then have the needed bloodline to be an heir. That makes five options, all of whom are as likely as the others," Artemisia shook her head.

"What are we supposed to do then?" Cuddy asked. They all looked at each other.

"The King of Darkness shall lose his throne… The kingdom divided shall unite again," House muttered. They all looked at him.

"What's that?" Wilson inquired. House looked up at his friend.

"Remy said it just before she died," House explained. "It makes sense now."

"It does, doesn't it?" Artemisia sighed. "We must unite this land and fight again."

"We must… We… I don't think the heir is a single person," House mused.

"The words show it would be a single heir," Artemisia argued. House just shook his head.

"We have four living options and one not even born. Why would there be so many options unless we had to rise together?" House replied.

"He has a point," Cuddy agreed.

"It would also explain the attacks. This Zel whatever would want to keep everyone together so we're easier to kill," Wilson reasoned.

"Zelfios," Artemisia corrected. She thought for a moment. "You may be right. Attacking as he has would strike fear, perhaps target certain people to kill in the first place, and if they were not killed then they would go to Prynce anyways, right in the King of Darkness's hand."

"Why don't we just leave then?" Annalie asked.

"Why leave when we can use his plan against him?" House replied.

"How do we do that?" Wilson countered.

"We prepare to fight, and we spread the word," Artemisia explained with a smile. House looked over at her. Maybe the woman wasn't all the bad after all.

The world stirred deep below the surface. An ancient force, a force of light, began to wake from its slumber. The wheels were in full motion now, and the words spoken long ago were coming to pass. This sacred energy waited to be called upon when the time was right. For now, it would hold its breath and hoped for understanding in the needed minds. For now it would hope for the final pieces to fall into place. The ground near the village of Prynce stirred, right where a pyre had burned not but a day prior. A remoldius, a flower long forgotten with petals of gold and silver, poked above the ground, hoping to bloom soon. What had died would be reborn. Red wings of fire would once more cross the sky, and the most majestic of beasts would roam the lands. It only needed one last push, one last shove into the pit of shadows in order to awaken the final light.

 **A/N: Hello December and hello readers! Gosh, two days in and I already feel ready to curl into a ball and be done with life. So we finally have some answers. I'm excited. This is cool. House and Artemisia are on the same page here, and Grendil may be way more important than we thought if indeed he is the chosen heir. I'm not even sure who will rise to the highest level at the moment, so it's kind of fun to watch this unravel. I really need that after a long day. It was just a lot of chaos and insanity and I'm super ticked off at a friend right now. Yeah. My life is insanity that never ends. Alright, I'm glad to be able to post. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and that some questions have been answered. As always, please leave a review.**


	18. Chapter 18

Artemisia and House sat at the bar in the tavern, waiting for a cup of cider and ale. Artemisia had ordered the cider, House the ale. "Are we going to set our differences aside?" Artemisia asked.

"You know about this power," House pointed out, ignoring the question. She frowned.

"Yes, I have felt it. I originally thought I could use it for good but now it is not so," Artemisia sighed. "Will you answer my question?"

"I don't think we have a choice. We have to set things aside," House growled as their drinks were given to them.

"It won't be willing though," Artemisia pointed out.

"How the hell do you expect me to be willing? You may have given birth to me, but you were never there, and you are everything I stand against," House snapped. Artemisia frowned.

"Alright, I get it," Artemisia sighed. She took a swig of her cider. "Have you spoken with Stacy?"

"No, and I don't plan on doing so," House replied sharply. Artemisia looked over at him.

"You will have to talk to her eventually," she pointed out.

"Do I? I finally moved on with my life. I'm not letting you or her ruin that," House growled. He finished his ale as quickly as he could and stormed out of the tavern. He went straight to Cuddy. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this," he huffed as he took a seat.

"Doing what?" Cuddy asked, concern in her voice.

"Artemisia. I can't believe I'm working with her," House explained. Cuddy sat down next to him.

"Can we talk about what this is?" she suggested. House thought for a moment. Eventually they would have to get things settled on that topic. Now was as good a time as any. He grabbed her hand gently, lost in thought.

"I want you, Lisa Cuddy," he breathed.

"I'll want to settle down eventually, House. I'll want more than a few nights sleeping together and glances when no one is looking," she reminded him.

"I can give you that. I'd do it for you," he muttered.

"That's not like you though," Cuddy pointed out. House chuckled.

"Isn't that the point? I love you. I'd do anything for you, and I don't care how unlike me it is," House remarked. Cuddy leaned her head against his shoulder.

"What changed?" she asked.

"I saw how much Artemisia loved Remy. I realized I wanted to give you that," House explained. Cuddy smiled and rested her head in his lap. As she fell asleep, Gregory House felt his heart entirely melt for the first time in his life.

Artemisia had gone out in the early morning to grieve. She had walked right up to where they burned the pyre, yet she saw no ash. There were bits within the green for sure, though none that Artemisia could see. Instead was a flower bud newly popped out of the ground. She knelt to take a look at it. A swirl of gold and silver met her careful eyes. She quickly stood, stumbling back. "Great gods," she muttered with wide eyes. It couldn't be what she thought it was, but she knew better. She knew exactly what that flower was, and what it meant. The High Priestess could feel the color drain from her face, her heart rate beginning to quicken in her chest. It pounded against her ribs. She grasped at the skirts of her dress, trying to think through things.

That flower had not been seen for centuries. The last time was before the war, the one that caused the old kingdom to break. Now here it was again. "The remoldius," Artemisia breathed. She had to laugh as she understood the irony in the name. "Remy." Looking up, she saw the dawning sunrise. It was a blood red specked with deep orange and some purple. Stunning as it was, it sent chills down the High Priestess's spine. Red was the color of blood, the color of war. That was one thing she did not want to face. She had to though, and she knew it. Sighing, Artemisia began to walk back towards the village. Yet she was drawn back towards the woods, towards that dark tree line. The power was growing there. It felt stronger, seeping into her bones. She didn't even need to stretch her hand out towards it. The power ran up through the ground, pulsing in Artemisia's veins. Something was stirring. Her breath began to hitch and break, her eyes fluttering shut. She could feel every inch of the power, and she had never felt so alive.

Zelfios stood off his throne, muscles tensing. The time was here. He began to laugh as the power filled him, awakening his true potential. It surged through him in waves, and he looked at his waiting shadows. They stayed shadows as he gained a physical form. This was what he had waited for all this time. He could live without the hostage now. He had a body. He could leave these woods. He could take what belonged to him, build his throne. No one would stop him. He took a step forward. Zelfios was entirely as black as night, with irises of pure white. His minions shifted back to make way for him. Zelfios didn't care. He would need time to adjust to his new body, perhaps a week or so, but it would be alright. He would be okay. When he was ready, all would finally be his.

Cameron had gone out for a morning jog to clear her head. With all that was going on, she needed a break of work. It was good to have even a few hours to jog just outside the village. She was now making her way back when she saw the figure. It was Artemisia, out cold on the ground. Cameron surged forwards towards her. There was still a pulse. "Damn it," Cameron cursed. She would need help getting Artemisia back to the Healer's Hut. She decided to go see Chase. Foreman had the early morning shift, so he'd be busy. No, it had to be Chase. She just hoped that nothing was seriously wrong with the High Priestess. Then as Cameron looked back down, she saw the woman turn pure white. As the High Priestess opened her eyes, Cameron swore in her mind that she had never seen such black irises before her in entire life.

 **A/N: We have some interesting things going on here. Zelfios, our antagonist, is FINALLY being seen, and in a mortal form. Or is it mortal? And why does Artemisia change as well? SO MANY QUESTIONS! I'm in a predicament though. Let me explain. So... I'm debating here. I think... I think that I may start trying to draw this out towards a close. I have some clear thoughts in mind of what I want to do, and in order to do it, I'll just need to lengthen chapters in the future. I'm not sure what I want to do though. I want to end a few fan fictions in order to make room for news ones. This is just the one that is closest to an end. Which in a way sucks because I love this one and would easily put it at one of my most popular. That leaves me in dilemma. I can write this out either way with how I've had it set up, including what's going on with Artemisia and Zelfios at the current moment. However, I want your ideas. Should I start ending this by having longer chapters, which will end with a really long epilogue, or do I continue writing as is and let it end later on down the road with a very small epilogue? Those are my choices. I'm a little more partial to the first as I do want to actually start a new fan fiction to be posted either at the end of December or the start of January (see bio for info) and I don't want too many things going on at once. As I said though, this is my most popular fan fiction at the moment and I don't want you guys to get mad at me. So let me know. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and as always, please leave a review!**


	19. Chapter 19

Anselm was dressing, his strength finally back. Artemisia stepped into the room. "You shouldn't have to leave," she cooed, her voice somehow different than before. Anselm was still adjusting to how Artemisia looked. Her skin was so pale, and her hair as white as snow. Her eyes were so black in contrast, and the red dress she wore stuck out so distinctly it unnerved him.

"You won't explain what happened to you. I find greater need in spreading word on what I do know, which is that these villages need to stand together," Anselm growled. Artemisia flinched as though Anselm's words stung her.

"I can only explain when the time is right," she reminded him. She'd said the same thing to House, Cuddy, Wilson, and every other person who asked her.

"When is the time ever right? We are at war, Artemisia, and I am finding it very hard to trust anyone right now! I almost died, and I am still grasping at straws to come to terms with everything!" Anselm shouted.

"The time will be right when it is right," the High Priestess sighed, closing her eyes. Anselm finished packing his things.

"Sir Grendil and I should be off. We want to get as much distance behind us as possible before nightfall," Anselm mumbled. Artemisia grabbed his arm as he tried to sleep.

"Keep the heir safe," she begged. Anselm tore his arm out of her grasp.

"I do not serve the Temple of Yar any longer," Anselm growled coldly, leaving the room. He went out to find Sir Grendil, who was preparing the horses.

"It's about time I leave this village," the knight sighed.

"She's calling you the heir now," Anselm remarked. Sir Grendil smiled.

"We don't know that for sure. I didn't even believe the stories my grandmother told me about how we were related to royalty. I wish I would have listened," Grendil laughed. They both mounted.

"Where should we go?" Anselm asked.

"We go where the road leads us," Grendil replied. With that they took off into the early morning. Anselm hoped that Grendil was the chosen heir. He was a fair fighter, and a just man.

"What was it like, fighting as you did?" Anselm inquired. Grendil frowned.

"It was not like fighting a man, I can assure you of that. No man should die at the hands of another unless necessary, but this was not that. This was a slaughter, and we were trying to fight that which was beyond us," the man explained. The morning promised warmth throughout the day. That was lucky enough, Anselm supposed. He glanced over at Grendil.

"We'll have a long road ahead of us," Anselm warned. "We're fighting a god, not a man."

House had finished with another patient, a villager with a strange case of flu, and went in to check on Stacy and her friend, Amber. "Where will you be going?" House asked, clearing his throat.

"We're not going anywhere," Stacy replied. "Lisa offered us a place here."

"You just love to torture me," House sighed. Stacy smiled.

"We have to prove that we've gotten over each other, Greg," Stacy reminded him. House just scowled. He didn't want to keep going back and forth with her. He had to get home soon in order to make dinner for him and Cuddy, who was coming over in order to talk about things. It was as good a first date as any. While they'd been together many a night, and Cuddy had stayed over on more than one occasion, it was high time they actually had what could be considered a true date.

"Fine, but don't expect me to be friendly with you," House growled in return. He stepped out of the room into the later afternoon. There was a chill that hung in the air. He had half a mind to see Artemisia, but he wouldn't. Ever since Cameron had brought her in looking as white as snow, House had pulled back even further from his estranged mother. Seeing her sent chills down his spine. Still, he was curious as to how she ended up that way. It had to be no mistake. Her change had to be tied to the war going on, or whatever it was.

Shaking all thoughts of Artemisia out of his head, House walked over to his own hut. It was a fair late afternoon as any, but he preferred the comfort of indoors. He went straight to his kitchen and leaned his cane against the wall with a heavy sigh. He hadn't cooked much in a while, but he had always had a knack for it. Somehow his love of healing and medicine, but overall the sciences, had helped his skill in the kitchen. It was not very long before the heavy smell of herbs and lightness of honey and other natural sweeteners filled the room, along with the smell of a chicken being cooked.

It was to this heavenly smell that Cuddy was greeted. "House, what are you doing?" Cuddy asked as she set aside her cloak. She had spent her day reading letters from a variety of surrounding villages. Now she was tired and ready for sleep, but the smell stirred a hunger in her belly. House popped his head out of the kitchen.

"I'm making dinner for us," he replied.

"I thought we were going out," Cuddy remarked, taking a seat. House shook his head.

"No, it's better to stay in. We can talk in private," House argued. "I want to talk about us."

"That means we don't mention this war, or Zelfios, or even Artemisia," Cuddy warned. House smiled.

"I am welcome to that," House sighed, returning to his work. Soon enough he finished cooking and the table was set. With a few lit candles, a bottle of wine, and a fine dinner in place, House and Cuddy took a seat.

"It's all so wonderful," Cuddy sighed, studying the meal in front of her with a half smile. It pleased House greatly.

"Why are you letting Stacy stay here?" House asked abruptly as he helped serve Cuddy.

"What does that have to do with us?" Cuddy replied. House leaned back with a sigh.

"She's my ex," House reminded her.

"I trust that you'll stay with me. I have my job, House, and I have to do what needs to be done. In times like these, I have to open our gates to refugees," Cuddy explained. House thought for a moment.

"Alright, I guess I'll have to live with that," House sighed. "Where do we want to go with this then?"

"I love you," Cuddy remarked. "I want you, and I don't care what anyone else says. We have to come open at some point."

"You said you'd want to settle down. I know that means marriage, but what else?" House inquired. Cuddy bit her lip.

"You've known me long enough to know that I'll want a kid," Cuddy reminded him. House sighed, tapping his fingers on the table as he drank a sip of wine.

"We're getting older. We don't have long to really try," House pointed out.

"Then is it too hard to just start now?" Cuddy asked. House studied her for a moment, trying to find his answer, but he already knew in his heart what he would choose.

Annalie and Chase were cleaning up their home. She had begun to show well enough by now, and the whole village now knew of their union. "So what do you think it will be?" Chase asked. Annalie paused, looking up at her husband.

"Knowing what I do now, I'm hoping for a boy," Annalie replied almost coldly. Chase smiled.

"Can you believe it? Our child might be the heir to a new kingdom. You might be the heir," Chase breathed, shaking his head. Annalie walked over to him.

"All I've ever wanted, Robert, was to be an alchemist, to make things that help people. This idea of ruling a kingdom… I don't want it. I'll take it if I have to, but I don't want it," Annalie confessed. Chase held her close.

"Whatever happens, I'm going to stand by you. Know that I will," Chase assured. Annalie nestled her head against his chest.

"I know," Annalie sighed. "I know you are." She knew in her mind that she had to live with the consequences of everything she'd done, her parents had done, and apparently their parents before them. That was the way the world worked. She would just have to hold her tongue.

Artemisia stared at the ceiling, her black eyes wide. She couldn't face herself in a mirror no matter how hard she tried. A power coursed through her veins, stopping her from being able to sleep. As still as she was, her body tingled, sleeping on its own. It was a captivating feeling, and she could in the bottom of her view watch her chest rise and fall with each breath. She muttered in the ancient language, one even older than what she was taught growing up. It was all making sense now. She had lived so long, longer than most of her kind, and it was for a purpose.

"A goddess," a distant voice chuckled, sweeping over the room. Artemisia's breath caught in her throat.

"Remy," the High Priestess made goddess muttered breathlessly. The spirit flickered in pale blue light at the end of the bed.

"Do not fear your calling, my love. I'm okay now. You have to fight though. While the heir shall bring the world together, you must destroy that darkness. Only you can. You've been given the power. The Energy has chosen you," Remy's voice floated like the aroma of perfume. Artemisia closed her eyes, feeling a cold chill kiss her lips. A single tear was shed, rolling down her cheek like a rain drop on a window. Her eyes shot open again, her body floating off the bed. Her chanting grew, calling for the heir to be revealed, and for Zelfios to finally make his move.

 **A/N: So I was reading through the reviews and I've decided that option one, running to our end with longer chapters, will be the better option. It'll help that I'll be on winter break after this upcoming Friday and will have a ton of time to write. Now, I would like to point one thing out. Last chapter had no flashbacks. What happened to Artemisia happened after she found the flower and all that happened in that chapter. So, I would also like to say that I do not go back in time with anything, though I do go forward in time a lot. This chapter takes place about two weeks after the end of last chapter. We have some things going on. Yes, Artemisia is indeed a goddess now. Pretty cool, right? Also, Anselm and Sir Grendil are working together now, and Anselm is not quite liking Artemisia at the moment. I have decided who the heir will be, and while I won't say, I will let you know that it is decided. I think I pretty much know the course of the rest of this. I would like to say another thing, looking ahead. It is the Christmas season, and since I've been in a festive mood for once, I'll be doing Christmas chapters for each of my fan fictions except It's Complicated. Now, as this one is more fantasy based, it will be more based off of Yule, the pagan version of Christmas, and will just be an additional thing. I am not sure if it will be part of actual "canon" of my AU, but I'm not sure yet. It may just be a nice happy chapter. I'm still debating. Do look forward for that though. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and as always, please leave a review!**


	20. Christmas Special!

It was a year before the Pool turned black. House was sitting by his fireplace as snowflakes drifted to the ground outside. The crackling fire danced around his ears. He didn't know what was to come, or how the year would play out. All he knew was that the cold didn't help his leg feel any better, and that his mind was heavy with thought. He thought of patients he quickly treated just to get home before the sun went down. His thoughts landed on the past, wondering why his life had taken the path it had. He rubbed his leg with wincing eyes. The pain was sometimes too much. He was still messing with his medication, finding what worked.

Wilson stepped into the room with a heavy sigh, his breath fogged in the air as the snow drifted in. "I thought you were going to come see me this Christmas," Wilson groaned as he shut the door, laying his cloak on a nearby chair.

"My leg hurts," House growled. Wilson just frowned. He shook his head.

"Are you any closer to figuring out that medication?" Wilson asked. House glared.

"No," he muttered. His cold eyes returned to the dancing flames of the fire. "Why are you even here? I'm the last person anyone would want to spend Christmas with."

"You're my friend, House," Wilson reminded him.

"Have you spoken to her?" House asked.

"No, but I've heard she's in some other village now," Wilson replied. House leaned back in his seat. "Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry," House mumbled.

"You need to eat," Wilson demanded. "Have you even eaten the past few days?" House shot his head back, glaring sharply and viciously.

"My damn leg hurts! How the hell am I supposed to eat with pain?" House shouted. Wilson closed his eyes.

"You really need to figure this out House. It'll kill you if you don't," Wilson pleaded.

"Leave me alone. Unless you can help me, leave me the hell alone," House growled. Wilson hesitated.

"I'll leave when you finally get some food in you. It's the holiday of rebirth. You need to get something in you," Wilson replied. House sighed.

"Fine, get some bread," House snapped. Wilson went into the kitchen and came back with a slice of bread.

"Merry Christmas, House," Wilson muttered. Once House had eaten, Wilson took his leave.

It was around midnight when House had finished. He had been working on a new medication for himself ever since Wilson had left. Now it was complete. The Healer finished taking his notes and looked down at the pill. He quickly swallowed it and waited for the herbs to kick in. With a sigh and a yawn, House leaned back in his seat, taking a swig of ale. Closing his eyes, he replayed his incident over in his mind. The wolf had come out of nowhere. He, Wilson, and Stacy were traveling to Prynce from visiting a nearby village to meet with another healer. One moment it was sunshine and laughter, and the next House was on the ground with a grey furred wolf snarling and growling as its teeth pressed down into his leg muscle.

That was a while ago. Now here he was. He was sitting on a chair at midnight on Christmas waiting for a pill to kick in. It was slow at first, and then fast. It filled him and eased his pain from stabbing to a dull throb. His breath hitched and his eyes opened wide. House leaned forward with a smile and breathy laugh. He rubbed his temples, limping off to bed. He'd stop by and give Annalie the new information in the morning. He'd teach her how to make the pills so he didn't have to. He had the money to pay for it. He inherited a decent amount of money. With a yawn, he started to fall asleep.

Here he was a year later, or almost. It was the first crisp morning, a fresh frost on the grass. He tightly held his cane in hand, frowning at the horizon. He'd come a long way from that winter evening. He hadn't realized how much he had changed, not until Wilson and Cuddy mentioned it. Perhaps the change was for the better. But perhaps it was not. It was still yet to be seen. He looked down at the pill in his hand. The herbs had helped Stacy and Amber with the pain of the burns. His creation had a better use than he had originally intended. In the midst of war, perhaps the injured wouldn't have to suffer so badly. He wouldn't be the only injured without pain, or at least dimmed pain. Looking up, he swallowed the medication in his hand. Annalie would have to have someone help her after all. The war was underway, and the Healer's Hut would be busier than it had been in centuries.

 **A/N: Hi guys! Here is our Christmas Special! It's good to finally have this written out. I decided we would take a step back and focus a bit more on House, which I actually feel I haven't done as much as I originally intended (curse you Artemisia and Annalie for being so interesting!). I thought it would be good to see the changes he's already had prior to where the first chapter picks up. I don't really have much else to say on that subject. So, let's look ahead. If anyone actually reads my profile (which I highly suggest!) then you have probably read today that I will be taking a small break for the rest of the month. I want to start out 2016 a bit better. Knowing most of you don't read my profile, I'll lay out what I'm thinking. I have two fan fictions which are starting to near their end: this one and Something Broken. I also will be finishing my December Special I've been working on with this Saturday and next Saturday (the only thing I'll be posting from now until January 1st). So, I need to rethink what I'm posting. I'll be spending my hiatus time working on all of my fan fictions, with a goal of finishing writing at least this fan fiction. To replace it, I have a few fan fictions. I have a Sherlock BBC one which will be posted upon my return from hiatus, and I am about to start writing one for the anime Psycho-Pass (which I HIGHLY suggest watching because it is stunning). I have one more idea of a fan fiction, but I have to play with it a bit first. So that's what my hiatus is going to spent doing: massive writing. I also will be renovating my profile, and some of my ending a/n stuff I always say to get people to read my profile. That's where I stand right now, and I hope you all will enjoy the changes. It's just a few background things and thinking ahead, but it should be fun. I'm hoping 2016 will be a great year. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and have a wonderful holiday season. As always, please leave a review!**


	21. Chapter 20

The first frost rested on the ground, a crisp white glittering in the sun as the first snowflakes of winter fell. Anselm and Grendil were on the other side of the broken kingdom, meeting with the last handful of villages. All the others had sent men of able age to be ready to fight. Anselm could see his breath in the chilled air. They had rode out at first light, hoping to finish this final leg as soon as they could. "Damn, winter is coming on so fast," Grendil muttered.

"It'll make fighting all the more difficult," Anselm agreed.

"It's a shame. It'll be hard enough fighting these shadows as is," Grendil sighed, puffs of breath flowing into the air.

"I hope you might be the heir, Grendil. You're so… You're so right for it. Getting to know you, I now see that," Anselm pointed out.

"Why thank you, Anselm. I'd surely choose you as Hand," Grendil laughed. They continued forward. The knight galloped ahead, and as Anselm looked at him in the glinting winter sun, he suddenly understood who the heir was.

Artemisia was sitting sewing by the fire. Her cold black eyes watched as the needle began to make the clothes she needed for war. A dress just would not do. No, she needed a shirt and pants, same as any soldier. Already on the fields right outside Prynce there were tents up for the incoming army. It would be makeshift, but at least it was better than nothing. What Artemisia feared more was the coming winter. It had come suddenly and harshly. A light snow had fallen in the morning, turning to just near a storm by evening. The smoke of fires rose into the sky. Everyone was trying to keep warm, the soldiers most of all. Cuddy was constantly having to help, enlisting House and his apprentices in the process. Annalie couldn't really do anything. She was bedridden by this point, not wanting to endanger the pregnancy. All the same, Artemisia wondered if the child could possibly be the chosen heir. She was actually beginning to believe that Grendil could possibly be the one.

The door opened and House stumbled in. His hair was frosted with the snow, and he moved to the fireside. "I hope I'm not the chosen. I can't rule," House admitted.

"What of Grendil? I think he would do well," Artemisia cooed. House looked at her.

"I think I might actually follow him. He's managed to unite the villages," House reflected. A change had come over him, one House couldn't quite figure out. Artemisia had no guesses either. Still, the change proved good in nature. He was more accepting, though still as hard hearted as ever.

"The battle we fear is too close for me to bear," Artemisia admitted with a heavy heart.

"I had Annalie make as much pain pills as she could, and I'm doing what I can. I think we might need them," House commented.

"Good, because I agree that we will need them. There will be so many injuries and deaths, and what is left is left. I doubt all the soldiers will see spring again," Artemisia reflected.

"I want Annalie and Cuddy to be taken out of town," House remarked.

"Why the both of them? Are you mad?" Artemisia exclaimed.

"They are both with child. They'll be safer outside from the battle. All the women and children really should be moved to a camp outside of Prynce," House explained. Artemisia stood, her eyes and mouth wide with shock.

"Lisa Cuddy is… is with child?" Artemisia breathed.

"We aren't saying anything yet. After the battle, if we win, I want to marry her. Right now isn't the time for announcements though," House sighed.

"I should say congrats then," Artemisia replied. "Who shall be in charge in her stead?"

"Grendil should be on his way back by now. Until he returns, Lisa wants you in charge," House told her.

"So you've spoken to her already of your idea," Artemisia muttered. House studied the High Priestess for a moment.

"Yes," House answered. He turned back towards the door. "You should think about what you'll do after the war is over."

"What about you?" Artemisia asked. House smiled.

"I've already decided," he muttered, walking back out into the cold.

"I'm not leaving," Annalie growled. Chase leaned against the door.

"Annalie, you're not safe here!" Chase argued. Annalie rested her hand on her swelling stomach.

"Robert, don't make me leave," Annalie cried. Chase sat on the end of the bed.

"Annalie, listen to me. It's safer to leave. Even Cuddy is leaving," Chase reminded her.

"What about Cameron?" Annalie asked.

"She's going as well. You're too close to giving birth. A few other women in the village are as well. Cameron will be watching over you with the midwife," Chase explained. Annalie thought for a moment.

"What will you do?" Annalie muttered.

"The rest of us healers are to stay. We'll be needed when the battle gets rough," Chase explained, his eyes darting down. Annalie closed her eyes, a few tears streaming down her face.

"Robert, I don't want to give birth without you," Annalie cried. Chase grabbed her hand.

"I love you, Annalie. You'll be just fine," Chase assured. Annalie finally slowly nodded, caving in. Chase changed into his night clothes and crawled into bed with his wife. As they fell asleep, he only hoped that she would be as well as he wanted.

Cuddy sat curled up next to House. Wilson sat across from them. "You're really doing this?" Wilson stammered. The two lovers nodded in unison.

"It's about time we do," House admitted. Cuddy rolled her eyes. She rested her head on his shoulder. "A few other Healers have come in."

"Good, we'll need the hands," Wilson sighed. "They'll probably have to be trained to use herbs instead of magic though."

"I'm sure between the two of us and my apprentices that we can do that," House assured.

"I'm to be wed as well," Wilson confessed after a few moments of silence. House raised his eyebrows.

"Finally again?" he laughed. "You were only widowed how long ago?"

"A year," Wilson growled. "It was a year at the end of the harvest. I'm marrying that other burn victim, Amber."

"Congrats," Cuddy smiled. She was tired, having been working all day. There was too much to do in preparation for the coming battle. That was what this entire so called war would come down to: a single battle. Artemisia had assured it.

"We've all changed," Wilson reflected. "I almost can't believe it."

"That's what happens with time I guess," House mused. He took a sip of ale as he looked into the fire blazing in his fireplace, his arm around his fiancée. He was no longer that odd and coldhearted man that he was before, at the start of this, but at the same time he was. He couldn't quite understand it, same yet changed. It didn't make sense to him, but then again, all logic had been thrown aside when Artemisia came to Prynce. He almost wished she hadn't come, but there was nothing he could do now but look ahead with strength and hope. Hope was all they had: hope for the better.

Grendil and Anselm turned back from the last village. It would be a few more days until they reached Prynce again, but the campaign was over. It was now time to fight. Behind them rode the final soldiers of the last villages. Grendil was at the head. There was a fire in his eyes, a bright and blazing fire. They began to ride on. The fields blew past them until evening was near. Grendil raised up a hand as he saw stirring in the trees in front of him. A strange creature stepped out. It was a horse, all black in color, but with a pointed horn coming out from his forehead. The unicorn looked at Grendil straight in the eyes, as though it was looking into his soul. It narrowed its head towards the ground, as though bowing to the knight. Grendil dismounted.

"By the gods," Grendil muttered breathlessly as he walked towards the creature of legend. He stretched out a hand and the unicorn stepped forward to meet it. As if he understood, he mounted the beast, looking at the awestruck soldiers. Anselm had a knowing smile on his face as he bowed his head. "We ride on!" Grendil called out. The soldiers cheered as they began to gallop away towards war and hopefully a peace as had not been seen for centuries.

 **A/N: *heavy sigh* So... I know I said I wasn't updating this until the new year... But I decided against that. I was writing yesterday and, well, I finished writing this one. I thought about it and decided that I would just finish posting the chapters. Why? Well... there are only two chapters left after this and one of them is an epilogue. We have made it. Oh gosh... I might just go for all the chapters in a day. I don't know! I think I will to be honest. We're so close and I just want to be done. I'll have two hours in between them though. Wow. Did you guys see that Grendil thing coming? I think I figured it out like five chapters ago or something. I put it in an author's note. Well, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and as always, please leave a review! By the way, search me on Instagram! Same username as here. NinjaTomatoFairyKing**


	22. Chapter 21

The women and children of Prynce had all been sent out to Stacy's old village. The air was crisp and cold, a heavy snow on the ground. Grendil had just returned the night prior. All were shocked to see his unicorn, the sure sign of his kingship. Now, on the morning before war, Artemisia and Grendil stood before those remaining in Prynce. Soldiers from all villages and healers and alchemists stood in a mass crowd. "We fight as the gods have ordained: for a freedom under kingdom as has not been seen in this land for centuries," Artemisia began. Her white hair has braided back to keep it out of her face. She was dressed to fight, a long sword at her hip. House and Wilson stood at the front of the crowd watching her. "I give you the chosen heir who shall lead you into this victory, and may it be into victory." The crowd cheered for Grendil.

"We fight this day for all of our villages," Grendil called out in a booming voice over the roaring crowd. "I cannot say that all here will survive, but your attempt shall go down in history most honorably. We fight on the side of the gods and of righteousness. With Lady Artemisia at our side, our victory seems clear. However, the fighting still remains. The snow we see so pure and white will be stained red. Yet it will not be in vain, not if we fight honestly and truly to the end."

Zelfios had his army prepared, waiting on the line of the trees. He saw the gathering forces, prepared to fight. It was time. The man in black smiled. He was ready. It was all ready. The shadows shifted in excitement, ready as well. The cold air would have nipped at them had they had skin. The world was quiet, almost silent around them. The aura of the world was thick with tension, as though holding its breath. Zelfios raised his sword. "To war!" he growled with flaring white eyes. The mass moved forward, a thousand shadows as one. It had begun.

Across in the distance, Annalie rested sweating in her bed. She had gone into labor a few weeks early. Contractions rippled through her abdomen. Cuddy, Cameron, and the midwife had huddled into the room. "It is too early. There is like to be complications," the midwife warned. Cameron bit her lip, looking up at Cuddy and Annalie.

"Well, there's nothing we can do now except get this baby into the world," Cameron sighed. Annalie cried out in pain. Cuddy squeezed the alchemist's hand. "Keep breathing, Annalie."

"Isn't there anything to stop the pain?" Annalie panted. Cuddy and Cameron looked at each other.

"House's pills," Cameron muttered.

"I'll get some. He gave us some," Cuddy swallowed. Annalie cried out in pain again. It was going to be quite a long day.

House, Wilson, Foreman, and Chase sat in the village with the rest of the alchemists and healers. The alchemists were preparing all they could possibly need for injuries while the healers sat in breathless waiting. House clenched at his cane. "I have this fear I won't see her again," Chase muttered. House glared at him.

"We'll all be fine," House growled. He looked back towards the forest. "The shadows are moving."

"It's really happening then," Wilson swallowed. They all nodded. House felt his heart began to race. This was it, the end of the past few months. He looked down the lane, thinking of when Grendil stormed in as a survivor of an attack, the same day Artemisia came to give the horrible news of the blackening of the Great Pool. Back then House was a man without a mother, a child, or a lover. Did having those things change him? Was that the difference between then and now? He didn't know, couldn't know. He closed his eyes, thinking of what seemed to be so long ago.

Grendil and Artemisia were on the front lines, the newly called king on the black unicorn and the High Priestess turned goddess on a white steed. The shadow moved out of the forest, a thousand as one. Grendil raised his hand. The archers prepared bows with arrows lit with fire. "Hold!" Grendil called. There was silence. A tall black figure led the shadow, now breaking into individual creatures of darkness. His eyes were as white as the snow, and he glared right at Artemisia. The goddess did not move, did not flinch. She simply sat erect on her steed, awaiting the king's command. The shadows moved forward and Grendil began to lower his hand. "NOW!" he screamed. A few hundred flying arrows tore through the winter morning sky. It was by those arrows that the battle truly began.

The soldiers rode forward with speed, swords raised and arrows flying. Shadows dispersed and came to, dancing like a fire in the light. It was black against white. Everything was black against white. Yet as Artemisia urged her horse forward, her black eyes burned a crimson red, surging with power. She stretched out her hand towards the soldiers and king now behind her, muttering ancient words over their weapons. She knew that she alone, by Grendil's side, could lead this group to the victory they deserved.

Annalie was still not that close to birth by noon. The pills were dulling the pain, though it seemed to be not enough. She was growing pale under the redness of her screaming and pain. Cameron, Cuddy, and the midwife were truly beginning to worry now. Letter by bird had already been sent saying the battle happened that day. Cameron was thinking of sending Chase a letter begging him to come. She motioned for Cuddy to follow her outside the room. "She's not going to make it, not long after the birth if even that long," Cameron pointed out.

"Should we send word?" Cuddy asked.

"Chase should see her before that," Cameron agreed. "I'll send the letter as quickly as I can. Be with her. She needs someone there."

"I think she knows as well," Cuddy sighed, looking back.

"She doesn't deserve to go like this," Cameron mourned.

"Go, write the letter," Cuddy ordered, returning to the room. Cameron went off to find a quill and parchment as Annalie cried out again.

House was busy with a few injured soldiers. The battle raged on outside, and the shouts could well be heard here. It hadn't been going on long before the injuries started going in. Healers and alchemists were running back and forth. It was a few hours past midday now, in the heat of battle. Chase came running over. "House, I need to leave," Chase panted, a piece of parchment crunched in his fist. Terror and fear lit in his eyes.

"Why?" House asked as he gave a patient some of his pain pills.

"It's Annalie. She went into labor early. They don't think she'll last after it," Chase explained, holding out the letter. House didn't bother reading it. He felt a pang in his heart.

"Go, you should get there after nightfall if you go fast," House sighed. Chase ran outside into the cold as House turned back to another patient. He was already exhausted. The end still seemed nowhere in sight.

Artemisia was somehow not out of breath as she searched for Zelfios. Her braid was all but a mess now, and she frantically scanned the line of trees. Follow the power, she thought. She let her intuition lead her. She was connected to the Energy, same as him. She was a goddess, and he a god. She was sent to destroy him. She had to rely on that knowledge. She took the Forest of Shadows, her horse stepping over the border. After all this time she was finally there. Swallowing hard, she listened as the shouts of war faded away as she rode in.

The power in that ancient wood was so old that it sent chills down Artemisia's spine. A blue orb seemed to flicker and float in front of her, and she understood who it was. "Lead me," Artemisia muttered in an ancient tongue, the First Tongue. The orb led her to and fro, snaking their way between branches and trunks of trees that had probably stood there since the dawn of time. She could feel that she was closing in on Zelfios, there in the center.

House didn't know what urged him. He just stood and began to walk out into the cold, fastening his cloak around him. He slipped away from the people, no one noticing his absence. Away from the battle, which he quickly glanced over at, he made his ways towards the line of trees. His feet walked of their own accord it seemed. His mouth was dry, his heart racing. It was like a wall of wind hit him as he stepped into the forest. He had never even dreamed of being brought there. He just went, simply led by his subconscious.

The branches reached out to him and he kept walking. He heard the pounding of a horse's hooves against the ground. It was as faint as a whisper, or it seemed. He kept walking, forcing himself to go a little faster now. The trees broke into a clearing, but he stopped right before it, watching as Artemisia dismounted her horse and stepped towards the tall black figure that stood there. Between the two was a stark contrast: darkness versus light, their eyes as red as blood. House felt his breath hitch in his throat.

"So this is what it has come to," Artemisia sighed, raising her chin but a little higher. The black figure smiled cruelly. The goddess of white glanced over, as though she knew that House was there. Her smile was kind and warm.

"I have waited a long time for this," Zelfios replied, his voice like death itself. House shivered at its sound.

"The gods have chosen me as their vessel of judgment," Artemisia cooed. House felt drawn to the clearing, taking a step forward. Artemisia raised her hand, a flickering light of gold slipping from her fingers. Once more her irises turned gold, black pupils once again seen. Her braid lifted in the air. Zelfios raised a hand as well, a shadow like darkness falling from him. It tried to combat the dazzling light, and for what seemed to be an eternity, they fought in the air. House stepped forward once again. His cane clattered on the ground, and Artemisia seemed to look back at him if only for a moment. With a breath of air, House looked beside him to see the shining blue figure of Remy. She smiled.

"I've forgiven you," Remy's voice remarked.

"You're not really here," House growled under his breath.

"Am I?" Remy chuckled. House looked back at the scene before him. There it was. The golden light of Artemisia was beginning to win out. The black faded, and Zelfios let out a shrill scream as the light devoured him. The gold light pulsed through the forest, slamming House in the chest and making Remy disappear. House was out of breath as the light faded into golden sparkles floating to the ground with the newly falling snow. House felt a burning in his leg and he clutched it, collapsing to the ground. Artemisia turned sharply and ran to him, resting her hand on top of his.

"The pain is good," Artemisia assured as House blacked out.

Grendil and Anselm watched as a golden light overtook the battle field. The shadows all faded into nothing with a singular shriek. Snow began to fall over the bloodied ground. The soldiers stopped shouting. It was like a weight was lifted. Grendil blinked. "THE WAR IS OVER! WE HAVE WON!" Grendil shouted. A wave of cheers swept over the land. Grendil smiled, looking up to see a phoenix fly across the winter sky.

It was past midnight. Chase had only just entered the village. Annalie screamed out as she began to push. She was sweating and oh so weak. Cuddy knew she wouldn't hold out for long. The door opened as Chase entered the room, the cry of a newborn child filling the room as Annalie fell limp with a pant. "Annalie," Chase breathed.

"R-Robert?" Annalie breathlessly panted. Her voice sounded distant. She was fading. Chase ran forward to her.

"They say we've won," Chase told his wife.

"Wh-What's the… the child?" Annalie asked. The midwife and Cameron looked up.

"It's a boy," Cameron laughed. Annalie smiled weakly.

"Annalie, hold on," Chase begged. Annalie looked up at him. The light in her eyes was already fading.

"Tell my father I love him. Name our son after him, and raise the boy up knowing I love him so much," Annalie pleaded. Chase slowly nodded. Annalie's eyes fluttered shut. Cameron ran forward, but Annalie was dead. Chase looked over at his son. Gregory Chase.

 **A/N: I'm going to go hide now as I explain things. Yes, that ending actually happened. I was cruel. I killed her. Stuff happened. So much stuff happened. Of course, you probably have some leftover questions. Well, I have answers in an epilogue which will be posted next. For now, I just wanted to take a minute and explain what I wish I would have done. I actually wish I would have focused on a few other things throughout this. If I could go back, I would go more in depth on characters and stuff like that. Still, I'm strangely satisfied with how this ended, particularly with the epilogue that will come next. I hope you guys have enjoyed this chapter, and seeing this to the almost end. The war has ended. It's over, in a way. Wow... Just... Wow. As always, please leave a review. I'll be back with the epilogue in a few hours.**


	23. Chapter 23

Twenty-seven years had passed. The room was silent. No one understood why the famed Healer had chosen to stay in that old village near the Forest of Victory, as it was now called by all in the kingdom of Yaranae. Once more the free realm had been united. The man stared at the ceiling, thinking of a time gone by. He was an odd man, considered and cold and cynical by most in the town of Prynce. House let out a breathy sigh. He looked out at the garden his daughter Rachel had stared. Beyond that was the graves, where his beloved wife now rested next to his other daughter who had died so long ago.

The creatures that came in the spring after the Battle of Snow, as it was afterwards called, were of beauty never before seen, not in centuries. It had been the final broken straw for House. He had to accept that not all magic was evil. House retired from his practice not long after the war. Cuddy, or rather Lisa House as she was so renamed with the new year that came during that winter, still remained the leader of Prynce, though King Grendil remained king over the realm. The strangest thing for House was what happened when he awoke back at the Healer's Hut. His leg had healed. He never had pain again.

Long had House wanted to ask Artemisia about it, but after that night, she was never to be seen again. Anselm returned to the Temple of Yar to try and rebuild what had been torn apart by shadows. He had apparently done well. Chase returned with the women and children a few days later, a newborn son in his arms. House had to admit that it was bitter to hear that Annalie had died. She was always so strong. Wilson and Amber married in the spring. House was actually happy to see it. Stacy remarried as well, in the new capital. House never bothered to acquire to whom.

The peace was something no one had dreamed of, though the new generation had no idea that once there was something different. House looked out the window to see his two grandchildren playing in the garden. Remy was seven, and Harry five. Rachel had named her daughter after a woman she had never had the chance to meet, though knew was special. House's great grandchildren were in the yard as well. Robert was eight, Henry six, and Victoria five. It was never strange to the children how they were related. They were just glad to have family.

House turned his head to see his eldest grandson, a Healer and Alchemist both, leaning against the door. Rachel stood next to him. Both looked like their respective mothers. "How are you faring, Grandfather?" Gregory asked. House was shocked when Chase had told him the name of his newborn son, the name Annalie had chosen. It filled House with a strange sense of pride.

"I'm nearing my time," House muttered. Rachel flinched. She was so caring and hated to see her father so close to death.

"Wilson is here," Rachel sighed. House sat up a bit.

"Send him in," House ordered. Rachel quickly nodded and left the room. Wilson, now in his old age, walked into the room. Gregory left, half bowing to his elder. Limping with a cane, Wilson pulled up a chair to House's bedside.

"So here we are at the end," Wilson muttered.

"It's been a long time in coming," House mused.

"Do you have any regrets?" Wilson asked. House shook his head.

"The only ones I had were forgiven a long time ago," House pointed out. He had never told anyone what happened in that forest. Now he explained in detail.

"You were meant to be there," Wilson pointed out. House shrugged.

"Maybe," House reflected. "I still don't know."

"House, sometimes you just have to accept Fate," Wilson argued.

"I know," House sighed. "I just wish I could ask why."

"Sometimes there just isn't an answer," Wilson pointed out. House slowly nodded.

A spring wind whisked over the mountain grove. Artemisia sat in the temple garden, looking out with coal eyes at the clear water of the Great Pool. Her long white hair hung around her body in waves. She was at ease, rebuilding what was sacred. Soon she would return to where the gods were. She had to smile at that. Anselm, now an old man, walked out to where the goddess sat. "Gregory House has passed away," Anselm announced. Artemisia turned to him.

"He shall be with his wife in the heavens," Artemisia mused. She stood, looking around.

"Aren't you at all sad?" Anselm asked. Artemisia laughed.

"The gods have no grief, my old friend," Artemisia reminded him. "I suppose it is time."

"I will be sad to see you go," Anselm sighed.

"One day you will be with me, perhaps one day soon," Artemisia assured. Anselm looked at the ground.

"Until then, I suppose," Anselm muttered.

"Until then," Artemisia bid farewell, kissing the old man's brow as she walked out into the light.

 **A/N: And there we go guys... *Heavy sigh* Gosh, it's been quite a ride. Wow. I'm bittersweet right now. I'm almost sad it's over, but at the same time, it's good to be done. I don't regret any of this. I think I gave it a good ending. I actually finished this right after watching The Tudors so I was sort of inspired. I guess that that's that though. Hopefully you've enjoyed this ride as much as I have. Time to say goodbye for now though. Check out all my other fan fictions. I have some good ones coming up for 2016. I hope you all enjoyed this, and as always, please leave a review.**


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